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The following pages do not profess to do more 
than offer to the reader some passing glimpses 
of. bygone days, and of the lives of those with 
whom I happened to be acquainted or connected 
who were serving their country in times of national 
peril, or leading the tranquil home life of a century 
now dead. 

At the time of my marriage, my husband asked 
me to destroy the journals which I had kept during 
my earlier youth. He had known so much un- 
happiness and dissension caused by such writings 
that he entertained both dislike and distrust of 

I obeyed his wishes ; and consequently, so far 
as my personal contributions to these pages are con- 
cerned, my memory is largely responsible for their 
contents. I have endeavoured carefully to avoid 
any allusions to those no longer living which could 
cause pain or offence to their descendants or repre- 
sentatives, and I trust that in this I may have 

My thanks are due to Miss Agnes Fraser for 
allowing me free access to the journals of her aunt, 


the late Miss Mary Bagot, and for her permission 
to extract therefrom such material as I considered 
might be of general interest. 

I am likewise indebted to Messrs. Blackwood 
for allowing me to reprint certain passages which 
were embodied in an article of mine, entitled " By- 
gone Days," and published in Blackwood's Magazine 
for March 1899. 






Departure of the Guards for Portugal — Life at Dublin Castle 
— A Banshee Tale — The first Railway — Teddesley — M. de 
Lavalette — Princess Victoria — Queen Victoria's Corona- 
tion — Reform Bill — Hugh Percy, Bishop of Carlisle — 
William IV. — Talleyrand — Lord and Lady Clarendon — 
Lord Wellesley, &c 1-15 


Hatherton Hall— Mrs. Walhouse — The Portal Family— Sir 
Edward Littleton — Bishton — Alnwick Castle — Northum- 
berland House — Sir Watkin "Wynn — Hertfordshire — 
Stafford House — Lady Ashburnham — Lord Huntly and 
Marie Antoinette — Almack's — Charles Bagot, &c. . . 16-33 



Josceline Percy — The Sans — The " House of Lords " — 
Lord Nelson — Queen of Naples — Lady Hamilton — H.M.S. 
Medusa — Lisbon — H.M.S. Hotspur — A treacherous Pilot 
— Two young Heroes — Portsmouth — Miss Agnes Weston 
— Junot — Lord Nelson — Captain Hardy .... 34-52 





H.M.S. Winchester — Rio Janeiro — Tropical Scenery — A black 
Ball — A big Gale — Mauritius — Monsieur Geneve — La 
chasse au cerf — Reduit — A kitchen Tragedy — The West 
Coast of Africa — Among the Natives — Benguela— The 
capture of a Slaver — Bourbon — Admiral Bazoche — A 
breach of Etiquette — Madagascar and French jealousy — St. 
Helena — An eccentric Governor — The troubles of an A.D.C. 
— Port Natal — Ascension — Sir James Ross — H.M.SS. 
Erebus and Terror — Life at Admiralty House — A tribe of 
Baboons — Harry Keppel — Boer Life — The Cloete Family 
— Farmer Peck — My brother's Death — Return to England 53-89 



My Marriage — Country Visits — Nice — Paris — Lord and Lady 
Cowley — The Wellesleys — The Praslin Murder — Louis 
Philippe and Queen Amelie— Lady Mary Bagot — The 
Emperor — Sir Charles Bagot — The Duke of Wellington — 
— Tyninghame — Drumlanrig — The Buccleuchs — The 
Grevilles — Lord Alvanley —Lady Mornington — Admiral 
Byng — Brussels and Waterloo — Family Anecdotes— How 
the Waterloo Despatches reached London — Henry Percy 
— Sir William Ponsonby — The Duke of Wellington and 
Waterloo — Sir Peregrine Maitland — Louis XVIH. and 
Fouche — Letters of Lord Charles Percy — George III. 
and the Prince of Wales — Sir Charles Napier — Lady 
Ashburnham— The Duchess of Gloucester . . . 90-127 



Blithfield and the Bagots — Bagot's Park — John Sneyd — Lady 
Wilmot Horton — A Ghost Story — A Case of Second Sight 
—The Tracts for the Times— Mr. Bennett — St. Barnabas, 
Pimlico — Mrs. Greville Howard — Levens — A Description 
of Princess Charlotte's Marriage and Funeral — Lady Derby 
— Mr. Rogers' Breakfasts — The Chartist Riots . . 128-156 





Miss Mary Bagot — Characteristics and Dialect — Wednesbury — 
Cannock Wood — Tamworth — Needwood Forest — Tutbury 
— Lichfield — Doctor Johnson — Lichfield Cathedral— The 
Staffords — Chillington — The Giffords — Boscobel — 
Wychnor and the Flitch of Bacon— Tixall — Bellamour 
— Beaudesert — Ingestrie — Shugborough — Keele Hall — 
Blithfield — Bagots Bromley — Colonel Richard Bagot and 
Prince Rupert — Blithfield Church — Morris-dancers — The 
Beggar's Oak — The Bagots 157-196 



The Ladies of Llangollen — The " Wakes " — A Romance — Walter 
Scott — The Executioner of Charles I. — Dr. Tennison — Sir 
Charles Bagot — Lord Liverpool — Mrs. Bowdler — Lord St. 
Vincent's Ghost Story — Disappearance of Mr. Bathurst — 
Funeral of George IV.— Charles X.— Guy's Cliffe— Mrs. 
Siddons — North Court — Mrs. Bennett — Doctor Johnson 197-223 



Dean Stanley — A Primitive Curate — Merton College — Bath — 
Lord North — Interview with Doctor Johnson— Somerford 
and the Moncktons — Chillington — Jack Mytton — Archery 
at Blithfield — Lichfield Races — Mrs. Somerville — Lady 
Augusta Murray's Birthmark — A White Dromedary and a 
Poor Monarch — Chenies and the Russells — Harriet Bagot's 
Death-warning — Captain Whitby — Death of Mr. Canning 
— Prince Charles Edward — Mr. Bowdler — Lord Edward 
Fitzgerald — A Dream — A True History — The Earthquake 
at Lisbon — Edmund Sabine — Lord Macaulay — Mr. Canning 
—A Ghost Story 224-284 





London Society in 1 842-1 852 — Lady Jersey — Princess Nicholas 
Esterhazy — The Duchess of Bedford's parties — Landseer — 
Lady Cork — Count and Countess Woronzow — Royal In- 
vitations — Lord Raglan — Crimean Anecdotes — Marshal 
Canrobert— Funeral of Lord Raglan — Colonel Charles 
Bagot's Letters — Death of the Prince Consort — Entry 
into London and Marriage of the Princess of Wales — 
Naval Review, 1867 — Northumberland House — Palmer 
the Murderer — My Husband sees King Henry IV, — 
Fatal Accident to Alexander Bagot — His Military Ser- 
vices — Power of Mind over Body — William Pitt — An 
Eton Story — "Little Jack Horner " — Family Tales — 
My Husband's Death — The Queen's Kindness — Cardinal 
Manning — Alan Bagot — The Diamond Jubilee — Messrs. 
Child — Conclusion 285-322 




Departure of the Guards for Portugal — Life at Dublin Castle — A Tale — The first Railway — Tecldesley — M. de Lavalette — 
Princess Victoria — Queen Victoria's Coronation — Reform Bill — 
Hugh Percy, Bishop of Carlisle — William IV. — Talleyrand — Lord 
and Lady Clarendon — Lord Wellesley, &c. 

I was born on the 24th December 182 1, in Portman 
Square. At two months old I was lost for some 
hours, and found by Mr. Deans, my grandfather Lord 
Beverley's confidential servant, in some wretched 
buildings near Portman Square — long ago pulled 
down — where my Irish nurse, with her friends. 
was "waking" a child who had died of confluent 

My father and mother, soon after my birth, went 
to live at Beauchamp Cottage, near Niton, in the 
Isle of Wight, which had been lent to them by my 
father's aunt, Mrs. Bennett. She was a sister of 
Lady Beverley, the Duchess of Northumberland, and 
Lady Exeter — all daughters of Sir Peter Burrell, 
afterwards Lord Gwydyr. One of my earliest re- 


collections is seeing the vessel taking the Guards 
out to Portugal for the expected war there, from a 
window of the pretty little church at St. Laurence. 
The ship had all her sails set, white and gleaming 
in the brilliant sunshine. My next childish impres- 
sion is, when I was three years old, going up to 
London with my parents for my brother Alan's birth. 
I recollect the terror I felt at night, at the tin rush- 
light with its great holes of light glaring like eyes 
upon the carpet, and at the hoarse voice of the 
watchman calling out in the Square, " Three o'clock, 
and a cloudy morning." The horror of that first 
night in London is fresh in my mind now. In 
1826 we left the Isle of Wight for a place bought 
by my father in Hertfordshire, called Scotsbridge. 

In 1829, Hugh, Duke of Northumberland, was 
appointed Lord Lieutenant of Ireland. My father was 
given the command of the Royal yacht Charlotte 
at Kingstown, at the same time. We crossed from 
Liverpool to Kingstown in a packet, in a gale of 
wind ; the passengers were frightened and came to 
my father, as a captain of the Royal Navy, implor- 
ing him to persuade the captain of the steam- 
packet to put back to Liverpool. My father spoke 
to the captain on deck. His only reply to the 
passengers' petition was to take off his hat, wave 
it to the forecastle, and shout at the top of his 
voice, " Now, my lads, Hell or Kingstown ! " I 
recollect thinking the captain a very fine fellow. 


We children went below to our berths and awoke 
at Kingstown, where we landed in a dense crowd 
of people all anxious to see the captain of the 
Royal yacht. We stayed at Gresham's Hotel in 
Dublin until my father's rooms in the Castle were 
ready for him, and Corrig Castle was taken for 
our country house. 

Our first excitement was seeing a mass meeting 
for Daniel O'Connell at Kingstown, and hearing 
him address the crowds in favour of the Repeal of 
the Union. Our next was going to stay at the 
Phcenix Park, and being extremely surprised to 
see that Duchess Charlotte of Northumberland, 
when the Lord Lieutenant came in to luncheon, 
got up, and with all the ladies present, made him 
a low curtsey. As we children (Isabel Percy and I) 
had been playing with him just before in his own 
rooms, we could not conceive why we were expected 
to curtsey to him. The Duchess explained to us 
that it was to the King's Majesty, of which he was 
the representative in Ireland. 

No doubt it was a very old-fashioned Viceregal 
Court. The Duchess did not approve of waltzing 
at the balls, but at my aunt Mrs. Charles Percy's 
rooms in the Castle, the young officers used to come 
and practise waltzing in the evenings, and one of 
them, who had lately come from Paris, taught them 
and the ladies the new dance, the gallopade, which 
caused scandal to the objectors to round dances. 


This Duchess of Northumberland, notwithstand- 
ing her old-fashioned prejudices, was one of the 
kindest of women. She was a daughter of Lord 
Powis, and became later the governess to Princess 

The Irish of the lower class were then extremely 
superstitious. My brother and I went on one occa- 
sion with our nurse to see an old widow, in a village 
near Corrig, called Sally Noggin. Whilst we were 
sitting talking to her, we heard three loud and 
distinct knocks at the closed door of the cottage. 
We got up and opened it, but nobody was to be 
seen. The old woman burst forth into loud lamen- 
tations and howls, and said that it was the Banshee 
come to announce three deaths. We could not 
comfort her. Next morning we went to see her 
again, and found that she had just been told of the 
death of her three sons, fishermen, who had been 
drowned that night by the capsizing of their boat 
in a storm and their bodies washed ashore. 

It was a very odd coincidence, for we certainly 
heard the knocks most clearly. Of course after this 
we implicitly believed in the Banshee, and in all the 
ghosts and fairy-tales told to us. All the money 
we were given as children we used to bury, in order 
to propitiate an imaginary spirit which we called 
"the Hermit." We confided to the Irish gardener 
where we had buried our offering, and he gave us 
one of his old tobacco pipes to mark the precise 


spot. When we digged to see if the spirit had 
deigned to accept our money we of course found 
that he had, and no doubt the money had been 
" spirited " away — down the gardener's throat ! 

George the Fourth died, and the Duke of Nor- 
thumberland left Ireland. Lord Anglesey succeeded 
him as Lord Lieutenant, and my father also left, to 
our great despair. We returned to England, and 
my brother and I parted regretfully with all our 
Irish friends, who were chiefly poor people, spirits 
and fairies. 

The excitement caused by the opening of the first 
railways seem inconceivable in these days. I saw 
the first train start from Watford, on the London 
and North-Western line. Country gentlemen vowed 
it was the ruin of the country ; that not only would 
they themselves never travel by railroad, but that no 
parcels or goods should ever come to their houses 
by it, but only by coach or canal. 

I well recollect Mr. Huskisson's death, as he and 
the Duke of Wellington were staying at Teddesley 
just before it occurred. 

Teddesley, in Staffordshire, not far from Penk- 
ridge, belonged to my mother's brother, the first 
Lord Hatherton, who had inherited the property 
from his great uncle, Sir Edward Littleton. 

People met to compare and discuss their sensa- 
tions after their first railway journey, and would 
solemnly ask each other whether their hearts and 


breathing were not affected by the rapid motion 
through the air. The good old Tories, to whom I 
by birth belonged, deplored the levelling tendencies 
that, in their opinion, the contact with the lower 
classes at railway stations was sure to bring into 
society. The downfall of the country was predicted 
by old gentlemen at dessert, over their port wine, 
predictions to which I remember listening awe- 
struck, but secretly longing intensely to travel by 
train, which I very soon did. Then came the shock 
of the projected Reform Bill, rejected in 1831, but 
passed the following year. A report spread abroad 
that Lord Grey and Lord Brougham were going to 
be taken to the Tower. My brother and I walked 
miles from Scotsbridge in order to see them leave 
Watford, whence for some reason we concluded they 
would start for the Tower, devoutly hoping that 
when once there they would be beheaded. 

People of opposite opinions in politics could 
not meet at that time, however nearly they might 
happen to be related. 

At Teddesley I heard Sir Robert Wilson give 
his account of Lavalette's escape. Mr. Croker, Sir 
Robert Wilmot Horton, Mr. Fazackerley, and many 
other famous wits and politicians of the day, fre- 
quently met at Teddesley, and their conversations, 
which I wish I had been old enough to put down 
at the time, were most interesting. Children and 
young people had few books then, and the conver- 


sation of their elders, and the public events, were 
absorbing to a degree to the ears of young people 
living a retired country life. 

Antoine Marie Chamans, Comte cle Lavalette, 
was born in Paris in 1769. lie had a very adven- 
turous life. He was originally destined for the 
priesthood, but disliked the idea and went into 
the office of a public ministry, where he became 
acquainted with the future General Bertrand. He 
was greatly excited by the taking of the Bastille, 
but wished for revolution only in a mild form. He 
became a National Guard and was full of en- 
thusiasm for Marie Antoinette, and indignant at 
the inaction of the Garde Nationale during the 
days and nights of the 5th and 6th October. He 
remained faithful to the Royal Family to the last 
moment, but was so compromised that his only 
chance for life was to take refuge in the Army. 
At the battle of Arcole he was raised to the rank 
of captain, and taken by Napoleon as his aide-de- 
camp. Being pleased with his services in the field, 
Buonaparte gave him as a wife Emilie de Beau- 
harnais, daughter of the Marquis de Beauharnais, 
the eldest brother of Josephine's first husband. 

The events of 18 14 obliged Lavalette to return 
to private life. Napoleon, on his return from Elba, 
made him a peer. On the return of Louis XVIII. 
to Paris, La Valette was arrested and sent to the 
Conciergerie. Madame de Lavalette entrusted 


M. Baudras to receive and hide her husband in 
the event of her being able to effect his escape 
from prison. 

Louis XVIII. wished to show Lavalette favour, 
but the ultra-royalists would not allow him to 
do so. 

Marmont communicated the countersign to her, 
and when the King was going to Mass, Madame 
de Lavalette managed to throw herself at his feet ; 
she presented her petition for her husband's freedom, 
and received an evasive reply. This was on the 
20th December 1815. The next day was fixed for 
the execution of Lavalette. In the evening Madame 
de Lavalette had herself conveyed to the Concier- 
gerie in a chaise d porteur, accompanied by her 
daughter, a girl of fourteen, and an old governess. 
The husband and wife dined together in a private 
room. Madame de Lavalette then put on her 
husband's clothes, leaving him her own. After 
heartrending adieux the three women left the 
prison, and on passing through the registry office of 
the prison one of them was overcome with grief, and 
leaned, her face hidden in her handkerchief, on the 
young girl's shoulder. The porter was touched at 
the sight of so much grief, and allowed the group to 
pass out without insisting on their veils being lifted. 

On returning to the prisoner's room the warder 
only found Madame de Lavalette. Monsieur Baudras 
received Lavalette, and took him to the Foreign 


Office. When Louis XVIII. heard of his escape 
he said, "Madame de Lavalette has only done her 

Lavalette remained hidden in Paris until the 
10th January 18 16. On the evening of that day 
he went on foot to the house of an English friend, 
a Captain Hutchinson, and from there, wearing the 
uniform of an English colonel, and passing under 
the name of Losak, he was taken through Paris in 
an open carriage by the English general, Sir Robert 
Wilson. They both arrived safely at the frontier 
town of Mons, where they separated, and Sir Robert 
Wilson returned to Paris. He was arrested, as 
well as his two fellow-countrymen, Bruce and 
Hutchinson. They were ably defended in court by 
Monsieur Dussin, but were condemned to three 
months' imprisonment. 

Lavalette retired to Bavaria, but was allowed 
to return to France in 1822. His wife was first 
imprisoned, but soon provisionally released. She 
went out of her mind, and never recovered her 
reason. Both she and her husband are buried in 
Pere la Chaise. 

Sir Robert Wilson always gave himself full 
credit for Lavalette's escape, notwithstanding the 
fact that it was due to Madame de Lavalette's 
heroism and presence of mind that her husband 
succeeded in getting out of the Conciergerie. 

Princess Victoria's visit to Shugborough, Lord 


Lichfield's place near Stafford, was intensely in- 
teresting to us at Teddesley near by. My parents 
went to Shugborough to meet the future Queen 
and her mother, and told us all the little events 
of the visit — among other things how Princess 
Victoria would eat asparagus in her own fashion, 
which was not a very pretty one, but at last gave 
way to the Duchess of Kent's remonstrances. 

The next time I can recollect Princess Victoria 
was after she had taken leave of her uncle, the 
King of the Belgians, and her great grief and tears 
at the parting. Later on my cousins and I used 
sometimes to meet her and her governess in Ken- 
sington Gardens. 

June 28, 1838. — My mother and I were 
present at the Queen's coronation in Westminster 
Abbey. We were staying at Lord Hatherton's 
house at 45 Grosvenor Place. We had to be in 
our places in the Abbey, in low dresses, &c, by 
four o'clock in the morning. We got up at two, 
and were advised to drink a mixture of brandy 
and yolks of eggs. The coronation was a beau- 
tiful sight, well worth all the fatigue. What im- 
pressed me, I think, the most, was the touching 
kindness and grace with which, when old Lord 
Rolle fell in the act of doing homage, the young 
Queen stepped forward and attempted to raise him 
up by putting out her hands to him. Her hands 
were beautiful and so was her voice. Lord Rolle 


really fell twice in his attempts to kneel before 
the throne. 

In the evening my mother, her nephew Edward 
Littleton and I, and George Chetwode, 1 left Gros- 
venor Place to see the illuminations. We crossed 
with difficulty into Hyde Park to see the great Fail- 
being held there. A ball was going on at Apsley 
House, which was beautifully illuminated. The 
windows were open and the dancing visible while 
the music was inaudible, which produced a strange 
effect on our young minds. For a whole week the 
booths from all parts of the country had been taking 
up their ground. It was a wonderful scene. George 
Chetwode and I followed, as we thought, my mother 
and her very handsome and tall nephew. We got 
into the thick of the Fair, and then it was not 
very pleasant. Suddenly the lady whom we had 
believed to be my mother turned round — a very 
different kind of person ! We had completely lost 
ourselves, and it was a long time before, rather 
frightened and very tired, we could get out of the 
crowd and find our way out of the Park and back 
to Grosvenor Place. 

No one who did not live in the davs of the first 
Reform Bill can imagine the excitement in the 
country. Duke Hugh (Northumberland) wrote to 
my father asking him if he would come to Alnwick 
Castle with all his family. The Duke had made 

1 The present Sir George Chetwode. 


arrangements to arm and provision the Castle as if 
for a siege, if serious riots or revolution occurred. 
My father, however, did not take the situation so 
seriously as did the rest of the family, and declined 
the invitation. After the Bill was passed, Rick- 
mansworth, the little village near Scotsbridge, was 
illuminated — only Scotsbridge and the Vicarage 
refused to join in the rejoicings. The mob forced 
their way into our backyard, saying that if Captain 
Percy would not illuminate they would break all the 
windows and force their way into the house through 
the servants' offices. We and all the servants were 
gathered by my father's orders in the front hall. 
My father loaded his pistols and sent the mob word 
that he would shoot the first man who crossed the 
threshold. No one ventured to do so, and, after 
hooting and yelling, the mob departed to the Vicar 
age, where they ordered the Vicar to illuminate and 
to give them up the keys of the church, in order 
that they might ring the bells. The poor Vicar 
was so frightened that he ran up to his bedroom 
and threw the keys of the church out of the window. 
I remember to this day the feeling of disgust with 
which we heard the merry peal of the really beauti- 
ful bells of Rickmansworth. 

We passed an uncomfortable night with our 
broken windows, but we had not, like the Vicar, 
hauled down our colours ! 

My father's twin brother, the Bishop of Carlisle 


1832), was burned in effigy in his cathedral city. 
A sick person, very poor, sent to Rose Castle, the 
episcopal residence, to ask my uncle to come to him. 
The Bishop was begged not to go into Carlisle 
alone without protection. However, he ordered 
his horse and rode there by himself, to minister 
to the sick man. The streets were full of angry 
roughs ; but, to my uncle's surprise, they made 
way for him, and, on hearing what he was there 
for, cheered him. There was a strong feeling at 
that time against the Bishops. 

The east window in Carlisle Cathedral was 
erected to my uncle's memory after his death by 
his poor clergy. His thoughtfulness for them and 
for all under his charge was great, and he added 
to the incomes of many out of his own. His per- 
sonal expenses were kept within the narrowest 
bounds ; but while life at Rose Castle was Spartan, 
the Bishop's charities were unbounded. He chris- 
tened and married me, as he did all his nephews 
and nieces whenever possible. 

I recollect William IV. and Queen Adelaide 
at Moor Park, which in those days belonged to 
Lord Westminster. He gave what was then called 
a "breakfast" to the King and Queen, and the 
Corps Diplomatique and the Court came down 
from London to it. We children were sent out 
into the garden while the party were in the dining- 
room in order to be out of the way, but we had 


the bad manners to flatten our noses against the 
window opposite which the King was sitting at 
breakfast. He had told my father, whom he had 
known in the Navy, to sit near him, and, seeing us, 
he asked him whose children we were. My father, 
to his annoyance, had to tell the King that we were 
his. The King sent for me and my brother Alan, 
and kept us beside him, giving us ices, fruit, &c. 
He was always kind to children, and very fond of 
them. I recollect thinking him a very insignificant- 
looking king, having expected to see him sitting 
at the table wearing his crown. Queen Adelaide 
was also present. 

My father told me to look well at Monsieur de 
Talleyrand, who was one of the party, saying that 
when I was older I should read a great deal about 
him in French history. I can see Talleyrand's face 
in my mind's eye now ; deadly pale like a death's 
head, and a most remarkably shaped head. He had 
a very bad countenance, but it was full of intellect. 
I saw many remarkable people that day who had 
made and were making history, and my father told 
us all about them, or rather me, as Alan was too 
young to know or care. 

I recollect Madame de Gontaut very well. She 
used to come and stay at the Grove, Lord Clarendon's 
place, near us. The Clarendons were dear friends 
as well as neighbours of my parents. Madame de 
Gontaut was a most agreeable lady, a chere amie, 


it was said, of Lord Clarendon, and a grande dame 
of the ancien regime. 

Lady Clarendon, nee Miss Forbes, was twin-sister 
to Lady Maryborough, my husband's grandmother, 
who became Lady Mornington. We were all 
devoted to her. 

My sister-in-law, Emily Winchilsea, 1 often stayed 
at the Grove as quite a girl, and used to come 
over to Scotsbridge long before we ever thought 
we should become so nearly related to each other 
by my marriage. She was perfectly beautiful. 

I never saw Long Wellesley, Lady Mornington's 
son. My father introduced him to the great heiress, 
Miss Tilney Long, whose heart he broke, and whose 
immense fortune he squandered. Lady Victoria 
Long Wellesley, whom I knew well, was their only 
child. She had the remnants of her mothers wasted 
fortune. In the latter years of Long Wellesley's life, 
after he became Lord Mornington, the great Duke of 
Wellington gave Mivart, the hotel-keeper, a weekly 
sum to dole out to him, and an allowance for his 
dinner. Long Wellesley could never keep a penny 
in his pocket. 

1 Daughter of Sir Charles Bagot, and second wife of the late Lord 
Winchilsea and Nottingham. She and her sister, Lady Uxbridge, 
mother of the late Lord Anglesey and his brothers, and of Lady 
Hastings, were noted for their remarkable beauty. Both died com- 
paratively young. 



Hatherton Hall — Mrs. Walhouse — The Portal Family — Sir Edward 
Littleton — Bishton — Alnwick Castle — Northumberland House — 
Sir Watkin Wynn — Hertfordshire — Stafford House — Lady Ash- 
burnham — Lord Huntly and Marie Antoinette — Almack's — 
Charles Bagot, &c. 

Among the pleasantest recollections of my childhood 
and youth up to the year 1 840, when my father was 
appointed as Rear- Admiral to the command of the 
Cape of Good Hope Station, were our yearly autumn 
and winter visits to Hatherton, the abode of my 
grandmother, Mrs. Walhouse, the mother of the 
first Lord Hatherton. She was a very remarkable 
woman, far ahead of her day. She was nee Miss 
Portal. At that time the English Church was 
asleep. Its duties to the sick and the poor, and 
to the education of their children, were left to take 
care of themselves. My grandmother, unlike most 
of her class, built and endowed schools, and 
attended indefatigably not only to her own pro- 
perty but also to the parishes and the poor upon 
it. I wondered, as a child, why her bailiff and some 
of the poor people called her at times "Sir," but she 

commanded them and the place with great ability. 



The service in the church at Cannock, in which 
parish Hatherton was situated, was only conducive 
to sleep. The Cannock band accompanied the choir, 
and this was at times rather enlivening, and, in 
certain hymns, almost dramatic ! No one appeared 
to listen to the sermon, which was a dry essay 
divided into parts, and every one rejoiced when it 
came to "lastly," and sprang up with alacrity at the 
words, " and now, &c." The growth of Dissent in 
those days is not to be wondered at. 

My grandmother was immensely respected 
throughout Staffordshire, and most hospitable at 
Hatherton, though I never recollect her paying a 
visit even for a night away from Hatherton, except 
to her son's house at Teddesley, and even there she 
usually only drove over to luncheon. 

She used to be up at six every morning, and in 
all weathers walk off to teach at her school near 
Cannock. She had all the vivacity, natural clever- 
ness, and good spirit of her French ancestors on her 
father's side. As a child I thought a walk with her 
in autumn or winter, " between the light," the most 
enjoyable thing of the day. The work of her busy 
day was done. Her memory was excellent ; even as 
we walked she used to tell me stories from books, 
and repeat poetry, of which she was very fond. She 
made ancient history delightful in this way, and I 
felt personally acquainted with Leonidas and Alci- 
biades, and disliked Aristides as a terrible bore ! 



Her father was a veiy literary man, but he would 
not allow his daughter to learn to read until she 
was twelve years old. She made good use of her 
time after learning. She appeared to have read 
every classic in our language in prose, besides 
Shakespeare, Milton, and all the best poets. She 
was a keen politician, and a strong Tory, to the 
last day of her life. 

At the Revocation of the Edict of Nantes, her 
family, the de Portals, who were Huguenots, left 
France. Louis de Portal, his wife, and, I believe, 
one child were massacred at Cannes, and the remain- 
ing four children were for some time hidden in a 
cave. These children — William, Henry, Stephen, 
and Mary — afterwards fled to Montanbars. Stephen 
dropped from exhaustion and was taken in by a 
baker, who brought him up as his son ; the others 
were shipped in barrels and taken to Holland. 
After five years in the Netherlands, Henry and 
William came to England in the train of the Prince 
of Orange. William entered the Church, and got pre- 
ferment at Derby, Farnbridge, and in Essex, and sub- 
sequently became tutor to George III. when Prince 
of Wales. From him descended Abraham Portal, 
his grandson, the heir to the house. Henry became 
the manufacturer of the bank notes of the Bank of 
England, and grew rich. Abraham, on the contrary, 
became extremely poor and had to try to turn an 
amateur love of watchmaking to some account in 


the city of London. Pierre Paul Frederic, Baron de 
Portal, springs from Stephen. From 1204 the name 
of Portal is mentioned in French history ; Alaric de 
Portal as Minister at Toulouse, a Minister of State 
and Peer of France. At the restoration of the 
Bourbons the present Baron's father became Minis- 
ter of Marine and Colonies, a Councillor of State, 
and Peer of France as Baron de Portal d'Abaredes. 
I copied the greater part of this account of the 
family from a paper in my mother's possession 
bearing the date of 1683. 

My maternal grandfather died before I was born. 
He pulled down the old hall at Hatherton, which 
his children greatly deplored. It was in parts over 
500 years old. The architectural taste of the day, 
in which the present hall is built, was very bad ; 
but probably the new house is more comfortable 
than its predecessor. 

Mrs. Jameson, the authoress, was a frequent 
visitor to Hatherton in my childhood, and I can 
recollect her father, who was an artist, also being 
there. After one visit to Hatherton, we usually 
went to Teddesley, belonging to my mother's only 
brother, then Mr. Littleton. To my grandmother's 
extreme disapproval, he accepted a peerage given 
him by the Whig Government. She had a pro- 
found contempt for modern peerages, and certainly 
would have been surprised at some of those be- 
stowed in the present day. He went into Parlia- 


ment when he was twenty-one, inherited the fine 
estate of Teddesley, and married at the same age. 
His wife was the beautiful Hyacinthe Wellesley, 
Lord Wellesley's daughter. She was as good 
as she was beautiful ; entirely without vanity or 
selfishness of any kind — a 'perfect woman. 

Before I take leave of my grandmother, I must 
mention that she showed me in her dressing-room 
a drawer quite full of long, thick chestnut curls, 
which, to please her husband, she had cut off when 
the frightful French fashion of short-cropped heads 
of curls came in after the Revolution — a fashion 
which had a grim origin ; for it was, I believe, 
introduced in order to sweep away all recollection 
of the long curls which had been so often removed 
in order to allow the blade of the guillotine to do 
its work. 

My parents and I always paid a yearly visit to 
another Staffordshire house in the neighbourhood of 
Teddesley. This was Bishton, belonging to Mrs. 
Sparrow. She was a very imposing old lady in her 
black velvet dress, and I felt in great awe of her as 
a child. Her only daughter and heiress also lived 
to be a great age, and remained to her death a warm 
friend to me and mine. The first time I saw her, as 
a small child, she had ridden across Cannock Chase 
to luncheon at Teddesley. With the want of tact 
of my years, I asked her why her face was so red. 

" Oh, my dear," was her reply, "as I rode across 


the Chase rude Boreas caught my face." I con- 
cluded he was one of the giants I had read about, 
and always hoped, when our nurse took us out on 
Cannock Chase, that I should have the luck to meet 
him. What a loss it is, when we outgrow our belief 
in fairies, giants, gnomes, &c. Our modern children 
seem to be sceptics from their cradles ; but I do not 
believe their childish lives are the happier for being 
made so practical and matter of fact. 

In 1837 my father paid off his ship, H.M.S. 
Canojnis, and in the autumn of that year we 
went to Rose Castle to visit the Bishop of 
Carlisle. Thence we went to Alnwick Castle, 
where I greatly enjoyed myself with so large a 
party of young cousins — the sons and daughters 
of the Bishop of Carlisle, the Duke of Atholl 
and his brother, James Murray, and his sister, 
Frances Murray, &c. There were also two old 
Miss Walpoles staying at Alnwick, Archdeacon 
Singleton, and various other guests. Archdeacon 
Singleton was considered to be as witty as Sydney 
Smith by many people, and by some people more 
so. We thought Atholl very much to be admired 
for going out to sleep on the snow all night with 
only his plaid as a covering ; it impressed all the 
young members of the party, but not his elders ! 

The autumn of 1837 in the North was an un- 
usually beautiful one. We arrived at Alnwick 
when all the heather was out in the beautiful, wild 


deer-park, on the " Cloudy Crags," and Alnwick 
Moor, and we left when snow covered the Cheviots 
and lay deep in the courtyards, and on the towers 
of the grim old Castle. A delightful visit it was, 
of the old-fashioned sort, the Duke and Duchess 
full of thought and kindness for all their guests. 
All that large family party and the old friends 
staying at Alnwick Castle at that time have passed 
away ; all gone to their rest, some very many years 
ago ! The interior of Alnwick has been entirely 
altered since those days. One now enters an Italian 
palazzo, after passing through Norman courtyards 
and gateways. So great a contrast, and so daring 
a mixture of styles, cannot but lay itself open to 
criticism ; and, no doubt, the imposing exterior of 
Alnwick, its ancient barbican, its towers and walls 
of Hotspur's time, will always impress the visitor 
more than its interior, which, notwithstanding the 
beauty of some of its details, remains, nevertheless, 
a modern imitation of the decoration in vogue in a 
foreign country, and suitable rather to a house in 
a southern clime than to a Northumbrian feudal 
castle. The Prudhoe Tower is much to be admired, 
and no one seeing Alnwick Castle since its erection 
could suppose it was an addition to the old build- 
ing. Duke Algernon (the fourth Duke) might well 
be proud of it, and of all the exterior which Salvin 
restored under his orders. But the proudest re- 
collection of Duke Algernon for his family and 


friends is, that he would not touch his own castle 
until all his farms and tenants' houses were in 
perfect order — and what he did for the lifeboats 
on the stormy Northumbrian coast is well known 
in the North, where he was so much beloved and 
lamented as " Algernon the Good." As Lord Prudhoe 
he was a great traveller in the East, more especially 
in Egypt, which in his day was less visited than 
now, and to the end of his life he surrounded himself 
with learned and interesting society, and was full of 
information on a great variety of subjects. 

When my father commissioned H.M.S. Canojnts, 
the Duke invited my mother and all of us to come 
and keep house for him at Stanwick, in Yorkshire, 
but this kind offer she was obliged to decline, as 
she could not leave her own home. His widow, 
a sister of the late Duke of Westminster, survives 
him, and has carried on many of the good works 
they started together in her home at Stanwick, 
where is a pretty and quaint old garden, laid out, 
I believe, by a French emigre. My father told me 
that when Duke Algernon was First Lord of the 
Admiralty, all the naval officers were devoted to 
the Duchess, who entertained them so kindly at 
the Admiralty ; she was also greatly beloved at 
Alnwick, and wherever she lived, being so full of 
thoughtful kindness for others. 

Some of that merry young party met again in 
London the following spring at Northumberland 


House, for a ball which the Duchess meant to have 
given there, at which Lady Frances Murray and I 
were to have come out. The Queen was to have 
honoured it with her presence. I was staying at 
Northumberland House at that time, and remember, 
as though it had been yesterday, the Duchess send- 
ing for me into her sitting-room to introduce me to 
Baron Lebzelteru, 1 who veiy formally asked me to 
dance a quadrille with him on the night of the ball. 
This gentleman, I see, is mentioned by Mrs. Fenton 
in her journal, which Mr. Arnold has recently 

The Duchess told Frances Murray and me that 
we were not to waltz — she disapproved of all round 
dances. The ball, however, which was to have been 
a very magnificent function (and old Northumber- 
land House, the stateliest of the great houses of 
London, was particularly adapted to such entertain- 
ments) was destined not to take place that year. 
Our ball-dresses, which the Duchess presented us 
with, were all ready, and all the invitations had 
been sent out, when the Duchess's father, Lord 
Powis, died. I was sent to Sir Watkin William 
Wynn's house in St. James' Square. I recollect 
driving with old Sir Watkin. He had become 
childish, and only cared to drive to Westminster, 
his old school, and look at the ditches he used to 

1 Austrian Ambassador. He was a very popular diplomatist, and 
had been accredited to the principal European courts. He died in 1856. 


jump over as a schoolboy. He used to clap his hands, 
and seemed to return to life when he saw them. 
I was delighted to return to Scotsbridge and to my 
father, and not to come out that year, and remember 
feeling quite grateful to poor Lord Powis for dying 
and so enabling me to return to the country. 

Riding with my father I thought far more en- 
joyable than parties and balls could ever be, and 
especially as he had only recently returned to us 
from four years spent at sea. During those four 
years (1833-1837) our visits to Russell Farm were 
a source of great pleasure to my mother and myself. 
Sir Charles and Lady Colville and family, with their 
delightful and invaluable governess, Miss Baigrie, 
lived there, and our visits to them, and theirs to us, 
were the greatest pleasures and red-letter days of 
our quiet country lives. Christmas at Russell Farm 
is as fresh in my memory as though I had passed 
it there last year, and I seem to hear Sir Charles' 
warm Christmas greeting at his hall-door as we got 
out of our carriage. 

How pleased I was when, after my marriage, I 
heard the Duke of Wellington say that he con- 
sidered Sir Charles Colville one of his best, if not 
the best, of his generals. We had very charming 
friends and neighbours in that part of Hertfordshire 
in those days. Lord and Lady William Fitz-Roy 
and their family lived at Goldingtons, and our dear 
friends, Lord and Lady Clarendon, at the Grove; 


Mrs. Grey at Grove Mill, and the delightful Miss 
Sheriff lived with her. Then there was Miss 
Campbell, Lord Clyde's sister, at Chorley Wood, of 
whom we were very fond, and at Denham my aunt 
Lady Emily Drummond and her family. That 
country in spring and summer is delightful with its 
beech woods and wild flowers, and we had the run 
of the beautiful woods and parks of Cassiobury and 
Latimer to ride and picnic in. 

In those days in the country there were always 
eccentric people of strong individualities to be met 
with, and they were probably more numerous and 
more eccentric than in these times of travelling and 
of wider interchange of ideas. One wishes one 
could reproduce them and have their photographs. 
Their angles had not been ground down hj going 
to London and travelling abroad. Some quite well- 
to-do people of the upper middle class, and even of 
the landed classes, lived and died in their own 
homes and on their own properties. Their pre- 
judices were unassailable, and they were narrow- 
minded and insular to a degree. Such people could 
scarcely exist nowadays. They were relics of 1800, 
some even of 1700. They had a profound contempt 
for " foreigners," especially for the French, and an 
entire ignorance of the character and customs of 
these " foreigners," and of their language and litera- 
ture. They were insufferable bores to live with, but 
amusing to see and listen to for a short time. 


The old-fashioned country poor people of those 
days were delightful, with their entire absence of 
education (in the South of England at least), their 
strong mother wit, and excellent manners. 

I wish I had written down the prayers of an 
old woman I knew who rejoiced in the name of 
" Puddifoot." They were long verses, which she 
said she recited every morning and night. They 
were not about God or religion, but about lambs 
and green fields, and I suspect of great antiquity. 
They answered the purpose of prayer to her, and 
doubtless were accepted as such, for she recited 
them as an act of worship. 

She used to reckon time as so many months or 
years before "the Sally-come-o'er-us " visited or left 
England. This, I at last discovered, was the cholera 
which in 1830 visited Rickmansworth. It was the 
old woman's Hejira, and she counted all events as 
occurring before or after " the Sally-come-o'er-us." 

There was much dissent of all sorts, and supersti- 
tion. Many of the poor people would declare, and 
firmly believe, that they had " met the Lord " on 
such and such a road. Perhaps they did in their 
hearts. They also would relate how they " had met 
the Enemy," and how he had tempted them, which 
is also not improbable. The Watford road appeared 
to be the usual place where this dread personage 
was to be met with. He seems to have frequented 
it on market days, when farmers and their men 


would return from Watford "market pert" (pro- 
nounced peart), as the old Staffordshire expression 
had it. 1 

I conclude that no girl of sixteen would in these 
days retire to the roof of a house or climb into the 
recesses of a great Portugal laurel tree in order to 
read Napier's " History of the Peninsular War " un- 
disturbed. In summer days at Scotsbridge these 
were my favourite places, and here I revelled in old 
war histories, and French memoirs of the Revolu- 
tion, and also in Walter Scott's novels. In these 
retreats no visitors could find me, and I well 
remember the satisfaction I had in seeing people 
hunting in vain for me in the gardens. 

My grandfather, Lord Beverley, was a prisoner 
in France for twenty-one years. He was on parole 
at Tours and Moulins. As he was a peer, Buona- 
parte would only consent to exchange him for two 
general officers, and my grandfather considered that 
he was serving his country better by remaining a 
detenu in France. His son, Algernon Percy, was 
taken prisoner with him. 

At the Peace, Algernon Percy, who was in the 
Diplomatic Service, was appointed Minister at 
Berne. In the year of the cholera visitation he 
came to England to see Lord Palmerston about a 
reduction which had been made in his pay, or 
pension, I cannot remember which. My father was 

1 I.e. drunk. 


at sea, and my mother was expecting my uncle 
Algernon by the six o'clock coach to stay with us 
at Scotsbridge. There were no telegrams in those 
days, but next morning she received a letter from 
my grandfather's old confidential servant, Mr. Deans, 
to say that my uncle had died of cholera after an 
illness of a very few hours. It appears that he had 
had a very stormy interview with Lord Palmerston, 
in the course of which both had lost their tempers. 
On returning to his father's house in Portman 
Square, Algernon had been seized with cramps. 
Locksley, the family doctor, was sent for, but 
nothing availed. I recollect Mr. Locksley very 
well, and also the hall porter at 8 Portman Square, 
who was an old Waterloo man. 

My uncle Algernon left all he possessed to my 
father. His will was made in French, a language 
which was more familiar to him than English, owing 
to his long years of detention in France during his 
boyhood. He disliked England and never felt at 
home there. His will opened by giving a most 
curious reason as to why he had been led to make 
it. It stated that a famous French fortune-teller, 
Mademoiselle Le Normand, had told him that 
within six months' time he would go to England 
— a cause cles affaires — and that he would die there 
of a sudden and painful illness. His death occurred 
within six months from the date on which the pre- 
diction was made to him. He declared that the 


prophecy had made so profound an impression upon 
him that in consequence he had at once made his 
will. My father being absent at sea, Mr. Deans 
was despatched to Berne with instructions to sell 
the greater part of my uncle's effects. The sale 
must have been grossly mismanaged, for he had 
some beautiful things which went for nothing at all. 
There is at Levens, my son's place in Westmor- 
land, among other things which belonged to him, a 
pretty miniature of Miss Rosa Bathurst. This Miss 
Bathurst was the daughter of Benjamin Bathurst, 
third son of Henry Bathurst, Bishop of Norwich. 
She and my uncle Algernon were engaged to one 
another, and she met with her death in a very tragic 
way. They were spending the winter at Rome, and 
the marriage was soon to have taken place. Miss 
Bathurst was a beautiful girl, and a splendid horse- 
woman. My uncle had made her a present of a 
horse, and he and others were riding with her along 
the narrow road by the Tiber between Acqua Ace- 
tosa and the Ponte Molle. 

The Tiber was in flood at the time, and Miss 
Bathurst's horse suddenly grew restive, and backing, 
slipped down the bank into the river. She called 
out to her uncle who was just behind her — " Save 
me, Uncle ! " but neither he nor any present could 
swim. A groom, who was a good swimmer, had 
just been sent back to Rome in charge of an un- 
manageable horse. Poor Miss Bathurst was swept 


away by the rapid current and drowned. My uncle 
wore widower's mourning for her for two years. It 
is a curious coincidence that three members of this 
family should have come to untimely ends — two 
of them while riding in Rome. Rosa Bathurst's 
brother was killed by a fall from his horse while 
riding a race in Rome, and her father disappeared 
in a most mysterious manner. He had been sent 
as Emissary from the British Government to the 
Emperor of Austria. He disappeared at an inn 
between Hamburg and Berlin, which he was seen 
to enter. Nothing was ever seen or heard of him 
again. It was supposed that he had been murdered 
in order to obtain possession of important papers 
which he carried with him. The inquiries con- 
ducted by the French and German Governments 
led to no result. Possibly it was not intended that 
they should ever do so. Miss Mary Bagot alludes 
to this strange incident in a passage which I shall, 
in a succeeding chapter, quote from her journals. 

My "coming out" was delayed until the follow- 
ing year. The first big London party I ever 
attended was that given at Stafford House by the 
Duke and Duchess of Sutherland on the evening 
of the Queen's wedding-day. It was a magnificent 
sight, and, of course, being my first experience of 
the kind, I was greatly impressed by it. All the 
remarkable people of Society, both English and 
foreign, were there, as the Royal Marriage had 


brought people to London from all quarters of 
Europe. The staircase at Stafford House, thronged 
with foreign princes, ambassadors, and officers of 
foreign armies and of our own in brilliant uniforms, 
the beautiful women and gorgeous display of jewels, 
was a sight not to be forgotten. 

I stayed with my aunt, Lady Ashburnham, in 
Eaton Square, for my first and only London season 
as an unmarried girl. 

She was one of the finest of the fine ladies in 
the London world of that day, together with Lady 
Jersey and Lady Palmerston. I remember dancing 
with old Lord Huntly, who made a point of dancing 
with every debutante because he had danced at the 
Tuileries with Marie Antoinette. He used to be 
much at the old French Court before the Revolution 
of 1789. 

I imagine that there are not very many left alive 
in the world who have danced with a partner of 
Marie Antoinette's. 

I recollect going to a ball at Almack's on one 
occasion. Lady Jersey, who was all powerful at 
Almack's in those days, and who once refused the 
Duke of Wellington himself a voucher for one of 
the balls there, was extremely kind to me. The 
quadrilles had all been made up, and there was no 
place for my partner, and future husband, Captain 
Charles Bagot and myself to dance. Lady Jersey 
saw this, and exclaiming — "What? no room for 


Captain Bagot and Miss Percy to dance ? " im- 
mediately made up another set for the quadrille. 
My husband at that time was one of the very 
"smartest" of the young men "about town." I 
well remember my first acquaintance with him. It 
was at a dinner-party at Cassiobury. 

I had often heard of him as being wonderfully 
good-looking and a great " dandy," and was very 
much disgusted when I heard that he was to take 
me in to dinner. I was determined that I would 
show him that I did not care whether he was a 
"dandy" or not, and showed my indifference by 
scarcely addressing a word to him during dinner, 
though he tried hard to induce me to talk. 

He asked me afterwards why I had been so rude 
to him. 



Josceline Percy — The Sans Pareil — The ;";House of Lords " — Lord 
Nelson — Queen of Naples — Lady Hamilton — H.M.S. Medusa — 
Lisbon — H.M.S. Hotspur — A treacherous pilot — Two young 
heroes — Portsmouth — Miss Agnes Weston — Junot — Lord Nelson 
— Captain Hardy. 

My father, Josceline Percy, was born on the 29th 
January 1784. He and his twin brother Hugh 
(afterwards Bishop of Carlisle), who was born three 
minutes before him, were distinguished apart by a 
piece of red thread tied on to the latter's wrist. His 
eldest brother, Lord Beverley, eventually succeeded 
to the Dukedom of Northumberland on the death 
in 1864 of his first cousin Algernon, the fourth 

At the age of eleven my father entered, at his 
own wish, the Royal Navy. He was appointed a 
volunteer of the first class to H.M.S. Sans Pareil, 
carrying Lord Hugh Seymour's flag, and joined her 
at the Nore in 1797. 

George Seymour, afterwards Admiral Sir George 
Seymour, joined the Sans Pareil at the same time 
as my father, and through life they continued to 

be dearest friends, often sharing their prize money 



together in the old war. Soon after the two boys 
joined, the first lieutenant found them so much in 
the way on one occasion, that he sent them below 
to skylark together. 

They observed the men gathered together in 
knots on the lower deck, in earnest conversation. 
Listening to their talk, they discovered that they 
were plotting to join the mutiny of the Fleet at 
the Nore. The men observed that the lads were 
listening to them, and threatened them. The boys 
rushed up the companion-ladder, and one of them, 
I forget whether it was my father or not, had his 
foot caught by a mutineer, but contrived to 
wriggle away from the man's clutches and get up 
the ladder. They reached the quarter-deck safely, 
and reported what they had heard to the first lieu- 

On joining the Sans Pareil my father had been 
presented by the Northumberlands with a medicine- 
chest and a chest full of valuable plate. He was 
so unmercifully chaffed by the middies for bringing 
such things on board that he threw the medicine- 
chest over the side. The plate nearly shared the 
same fate, but was rescued in time, and given into 
the charge of the purser. All the silver now at 
Levens bearing the Percy lion belonged to it. 
After the mutiny of the Nore, the Sans Pareil 
was ordered to the North Sea, and then to the 
West Indies. During the latter voyage the ship's 


company suffered severely from yellow fever, and 
my father told me that his aunt's despised drugs 
were greatly regretted, as the medicines on board 
were bad. 

For the first two years my father had a very 
rough time of it. He and the other newly-joined 
boys were not allowed inside the midshipman's 
berth, and had to snatch their meals as best they 
could and eat them outside on their lockers. The 
Sans Pareil had several peers' sons on board, and 
was ironically called the " House of Lords " — the 
unlucky boys getting an extra rough treatment for 
what was certainly no fault of their own. My 
father said he often wished, in those two years, 
that he had never gone to sea ; but he was ashamed 
to write home to say so. After the two years of 
roughing it, he declared he would not have ex- 
changed his profession for anything else in the 

From 1 80 1 to 1803 ne served on board the 
Amphion in the West Indies and in the Channel. 
In 1803 he was appointed to H.M.S. Victory 
under Lord Nelson, then on the Mediterranean 

Lord Nelson gave him despatches to take to 
the Queen of Naples, and private letters to Lady 
Hamilton, which he was charged only to deliver 
into her own hands. The Queen of Naples gave 
him two silver lamps. On his return from Naples 


Lord Nelson gave him a sword, which is now at 
Levens, saying to him : " Young man, I envy you. 
At your age, and in these times, you ought to have 
a fine career before you." Lord Nelson got him 
his lieutenancy, and on leaving the Victory he was 
appointed to H.M.S. Medusa. She engaged four 
Spanish frigates off Cadiz, one of which blew up, 
and the remaining three were captured. The 
Medusa also took the Spanish frigate Matilda 
off Cape St. Mary. 

From 1805 to 1806 on board H.M.S. Diadem; 
was present at the blockade and capture of the Cape 
of Good Hope, and, in command of the Diadem's 
boats, he took possession of the French man-of- 
war, the Volontaire, while entering Table Bay. As 
commander he was appointed to the Espoir, 1806, 
serving at the Cape of Good Hope. He was 
appointed acting post captain to the captured 
Volontaire, taking her to England from the Cape. 

In 1807 Josceline Percy commissioned H.M.S. 
Comus as captain, served in her till 1808 in the 
Azores, and on the coast of Portugal. As captain 
of the Comus he destroyed two forts in the Bay 
of St. Ubes, for which he was thanked on the 
quarter-deck by Admiral Sir Charles Cotton. 

From 1808 to 18 10, as captain of H.M.S. 
Nymph, he was employed in the blockade of the 
Tagus, until Lisbon was taken. There he fell in 
with his brother, Captain William Percy, R.N., in 


command of a ship ; with his brother, Henry Percy, 
14th Light Dragoons, A.D.C. to Sir John Moore; 
with his brother Francis, a soldier under Sir John 
Moore's command, in which regiment I forget 
(Francis had overgrown his strength, and died of 
fatigue in the campaign) ; also with his eldest 
brother, Lord Lovaine, who, I believe, had volun- 
teered on some general's staff — a very unexpected 
and delightful meeting for all these brothers on 
active war service ! 

On 5th November 18 10 my father commissioned 
H.M.S. Hotspur. When he paid off H.M.S. Nymph 
he turned up all hands and asked them on the 
quarter-deck if they would volunteer to follow him 
to the Hotspur. The men had previously served 
under his command in the Comus. To a man 
they said, " Aye, aye, sir ! " so in the Hotspur he 
had a tried ship's company which would have 
followed him to the world's end. As captain of 
the Hotspur he was employed on the blockade of 
Cherbourg, Havre, Brest, and the Loire. Whilst 
off Cherbourg, Captain Percy engaged two line-of- 
battle ships, one frigate, and two corvettes, for 
which he received the thanks of Admiral Sir 
Pulteney Malcolm publicly on the quarter-deck 
of his flagship. Afterwards the Hotspur attacked 
a flotilla under the protection of the Forts of Cal- 
vados. One vessel was sunk and two run on shore, 
and the forts were silenced, for which Captain 


Percy received the thanks of the Admiralty, con- 
veyed through Sir R. Curteis, Commander-in-Chief, 
which were publicly read on the quarter-deck of the 
Hotspur at Portsmouth, by orders of the admiral. 
The Hotspur also captured off the Loire the 
Imperatrice Heine, letter of marque corvette. 

I recollect my father telling me that the Hotspur 
was ordered to destroy to the uttermost some gun- 
boats which had received orders to make an attack 
on Guernsey from the opposite coast. The French 
pilot treacherously took the Hotspur under the 
French forts. This action, in which poor young 
Alick Hay was killed, is related in letters to Henry 
Drummond, which were in Robert Hay's possession, 
now, I believe, in Lord Kinnoull's. The com- 
mander of the Hotspur, whom I recollect, but do 
not remember his name, said my father was in 
such rage at the French pilot's treachery that had 
his arms not been held he would have shot him 
with his pistol on the poop of the Hotspur. She 
sunk three gun-boats, and silenced the batteries 
of the forts, though aground almost under them. 
The action was a hard-fought one, lasting six hours. 

When the men were mustered previous to going 
into action, to see if they were in fit state for it, 
they all passed ; but immediately afterwards one was 
brought forward by his shipmates as intoxicated, 
this being sufficiently evident. The captain ordered 
him into his own galley, which was hoisted up amid- 


ships. A voice was heard several times during the 
action, proceeding from the captain's galley, an- 
nouncing in what direction the French were firing, 
and in what quarter the shots fell short ; only when 
the violence of the action abated, and the din and 
smoke lessened, could the words of the captain as 
to whom they proceeded from be attended to. He 
was answered that the shouts came from the man 
whose situation in the galley had been entirely for- 
gotten. When the poor fellow was ordered down, 
it was found he had long been sober, but, true to 
discipline, he had never moved. He could see 
much from the boat, and exerted his voice to the 
uttermost to be of use to those more actively em- 
ployed. He came down unhurt, but the galley was 
riddled with shots which had passed through her. 

At the onset of the action Captain Percy selected 
two of the youngest boys to be his A.D.C.'s, hoping 
in this way to keep them safely by his side on the 
poop. He chaffed them when they ducked their 
heads, as shots whizzed over them, and they soon 
became steady. It was the first time the boys had 
been under fire. During the heat of the action 
my father was obliged to despatch one of the boys 
from his side on the poop to take charge of a gun 
on the quarter-deck, whose firing seemed to slacken ; 
almost simultaneously a 24-pounder struck the lad, 
who fell dead at the post he had been so proud 
to fill. My father felt this order had been the 


boy's doom ; but from losing so many men he had 
afterwards reluctantly to order the remaining A.D.C., 
young Alick Hay, to take a rope and shove it 
through a port on the quarter-deck. Captain 
Percy then turned to give an order to the first 
lieutenant. Whilst they were speaking a groan 
was heard; it proceeded from poor young Hay, 
who was shot through the lungs in the act of 
obeying his orders. He was carried below by 
the first lieutenant, and put into the surgeon's 
care, close to a marine whose leg had to be 
amputated. This marine, a very fine fellow, sup- 
ported poor Hay with his shoulder, and, regard- 
less of his own sufferings and thirst, gave the poor 
lad every drop of the water procured for his own 
parched lips. The surgeon at once saw Hay's case 
was hopeless. He lived one hour from the time 
he was hit. During that time two cheers were 
given on deck for the sinking of the French vessels ; 
the gallant young Hay joined in both cheers, spend- 
ing his last breath in faint hurrahs for the honour 
of England. The bodies of the two lads were laid 
together, covered with a Union Jack, at the door 
of the fore cabin. On leaving the cabin next 
morning, my father found the flag partially removed, 
their young faces being exposed. Some old French- 
men (who had been taken prisoners before the 
action in little coasting vessels) were kneeling by 
the side of the bodies, saying prayers for the souls 


of the two lads. They told Captain Percy, " Not 
all the injury you can do to our countrymen will 
compensate for the loss of such lads as these." 
These boys had treated the old French prisoners 
with much kindness. The latter were returned 
safely to their native coast in a boat which brought 
a Frenchman to the Hotspur, entreating to be taken 
on board. The man threw himself overboard in the 
night, and was supposed to have gone mad. 

In the heat of a very severe action my father 
was standing on the deck of his vessel the Hotspur 
frigate and giving directions to the first lieutenant 
where to find the keys of his private escritoire, in 
case he should fall. A remarkably fine lad, a mid- 
shipman, had also just received an order as to moving 
a rope. My father felt his eye struck and that he 
saw nothing. On putting his hand up to the injured 
part he found it bleeding profusely, which was 
visible in the bright moonshine. He tied his head 
up in a silk handkerchief and soon found something 
was loose within it, which he imagined was his eye, 
but examination proved it to be a piece of flesh, 
which had been struck from another body, had 
occasioned the bleeding, and during the time of its 
adhesion had blinded him. In turning round to see 
who the real victim had been, they found the poor 
midshipman stretched on the deck close to the rope 
which he had been ordered to move. 

My father raised him : the boy said, " I am 


hit, sir, but not much, I believe." He attempted to 
walk in vain, and my father carried him to the 
cockpit, an awful place at such a time. The poor 
midshipman was placed close to a man who had the 
tourniquet on, previous to amputation, but unmindful 
of his own pain he continued to give the dying boy 
water to the last. The midshipman's arm had been 
taken off at the shoulder by a shot. It was im- 
possible to save him, but his mind was clear to the 
last, and he rejoiced over the victory gained. The 
marine lived, his leg was taken off above the knee — 
a twenty-four pounder had struck him from a gun : 
he got up, but was unable to walk or stand : again 
he fell, and succeeded in his earnest wish to discharge 
the piece before he was carried below. 

After the action was over and the enemy had 
hauled down his colours, the surgeon came to 
Captain Percy and begged him to go to dinner in 
the fore-cabin. My father most unluckily looked 
under the table, feeling something under it with 
his feet. He was horrified to find a mass of arms 
and legs that had been amputated. There was of 
course an end of his dinner, and also of that of most 
of those he had asked to join him. 

The worst part of the day, he said, was after the 
action was over, when the surgeon came to him with 
requests from the wounded men to come down to 
the cockpit to see the operations that had to take 
place — the men saying, " If Captain Percy would 


only come down and stay with them, they should 
not mind losing their leg," &c. No braver man 
ever lived than my father, but he hated looking on 
at operations, and after a man had been flogged I 
have seen him come down to the fore-cabin, unbuckle 
his sword, ask for a glass of water, and turn faint. 
On first going to sea with a new crew, when the 
men were " trying their captain," punishments were 
necessary. A marine made it a point of honour to 
take a flogging in silence — the sailor thought it no 
shame to " sing out." 

As a child I dreaded Saturday nights at Ports- 
mouth, from the crews of the different men-of-war 
fighting in the streets, the noise waking one up with 
a start. How orderly and different now are the 
streets of Portsmouth on Saturday nights, thanks to 
Miss Weston and other good influences. Educa- 
tion has clone much for Jack, and yet deprived him 
of none of his pluck and dash, as the South African 
war has proved so recently. But of Miss Weston's 
homes it is impossible to speak too highly. She 
has indeed been a "Mother" to the Navy. 

After the action with the Cherbourg Forts the 
Hotspur was obliged to leave the French coast and 
go to Portsmouth to refit, she had lost so many men, 
and had so many others seriously wounded. The 
frigate had also sustained such serious injuries, her 
bulwarks being shot away in some places, that she 
was a mere raft. The passage to Portsmouth was 


an anxious one, but luckily the weather was calm 
and beautiful, and wind fair. One man threw him- 
self overboard in the night, unable to bear his 
wounds and thirst, and many of the wounded had 
to be laid on the quarter-deck for air. 

When the Hotspur made her number at Spit- 
head, she was towed into the harbour for repairs ; 
crowds lined the shores, and she was cheered all the 
way to her moorings by them and by the big ships 
she passed in her damaged condition. My father 
told me that all the honour the Hotspur received 
could not console him for the loss of young Hay ! 
He spoke of him, when I first heard the story, with 
tears in his eyes. The Hotspur carried the Percy 
crescent, our family badge, at her main topmast, and 
was a very smart frigate in all senses of the word. 

The Hotspur, when again fit for sea, was ordered 
to the Brazils. 

When we were at Rio Janeiro in 1842, in H.M.S. 
Winchester, my father gave a dance on board, and a 
lady who brought her daughters (a Spanish family) 
told me she recollected my father as captain of the 
Hotspur at Buenos Ayres, a slight man, with bright 
reddish hair, and his frigate, the cabins of which 
were lined with blue silk, and painted white and 
gold, and the uniform of the band was blue and 
silver, with the Percy crescent on their arms ; and 
that all the ladies were in love with the young Eng- 
lish captain, and his smart frigate, which prided 


herself in beating to quarters, reefing topsails, &c, 
in less time than other ships. I can just recollect 
an old, one-legged sailor coming to stay at Scots- 
bridge in 1828 ; he had served with my father in the 
Nymph, Comus, and Hotspur. He was Irish, and 
used to spin long yarns to my brother Alan and 
me about the fun they had landing and cattle- 
lifting on the coast of Brittany, and stealing 
fowls and eggs. He said my father was dreaded 
on the French coast, and called "Bully Eouge," from 
the colour of his hair. The old sailor used to sing 
our family dirge of " Chevy Chase " to us, and end- 
less sea songs. " The Saucy Arethusa " he taught 
us to sing, with his old cracked voice. It sent my 
brother Alan to sea later on, as he and I used to sing 
all these sea songs with enthusiasm, and I recollect 
crying because I could not turn into a boy to fight 
the French ! This old man often came from Green- 
wich Hospital to Scotsbridge, but after we went to 
Ireland in 1829 he died. I also recollect the 
carpenter of the Hotspur bringing the model of 
her, which he made, to Scotsbridge. He lost his 
eyesight doing the fine work with his penknife. 
My father gave him a pension till he died, which 
was during the time my father commanded the 
Royal yacht Charlotte at Kingstown. This model 
was, many years afterwards, re-rigged for me in 
Portsmouth Dockyard and is now at Levens. 

After the convention of Cintra, 1808, when the 


French agreed to evacuate Portugal, my father had 
orders to convey General Junot to La Rochelle. I 
suppose General Junot was taken prisoner at the 
battle of Vimeira. Junot and my father became 
great friends. Junot had intended making himself 
King of Portugal. He told my father that he was 
the son of a French avocat. He could read and 
write — which in those days was an honourable dis- 
tinction in the French line, and gained him his 
first step in the service. After having acted as 
secretary to Napoleon on some field of battle (I 
forget which), he wrote on a drum-head at Napoleon's 
dictation. A ball threw up the earth very near 
them and Junot said, " Nous ne manquons pas de 
poussiere, mon Colonel." Junot traced his career 
from that day, when he said Napoleon was a colonel 
and he a sergeant in the line, and in the same regi- 
ment. "Now I am a Duke (Abrantes) and he is an 

" Not acknowledged in England, however," said 
Captain Percy, " and still less do we acknowledge 
that he has the power and right to confer titles in 
another kingdom, more especially when that rank 
and title already belongs to a native of it." 

At that time there was a Portuguese Marquis 
d' Abrantes. Every evening Junot used to take out 
his wife's miniature and show it to my father, and 
kiss it. She was a beautiful woman. 

On leaving my father's ship Junot gave him a 


magnificent dressing-case, with gold fittings, which, 
unluckily, my father sold on his return to England 
to meet the expenses of fitting out another vessel, 
the Hotspur. Whilst at La Rochelle, an invitation 
came to my father to dine with the officers of the 
French Navy there ; he declined it on the grounds 
that he might not be permitted to return to his ship. 
Junot himself came off to urge his acceptance of the 
invitation, saying he " would pledge his honour all 
would be right." 

"Would you pledge your honour that if orders 
arrived from Headquarters at Paris to secure and 
detain my ship you would not obey them ? " 

Junot said he could not promise that, and retired. 
His visit was followed by a visit from the French 
admiral, to the same purport, and answered by 
the English captain that, although he confided 
thoroughly in the honour of a French officer when 
pledged — " 1 do not acknowledge your Emperor, 
and will not trust his government, and therefore 
beg to decline the invitation which you have be- 
stowed upon me." 

When Lord Nelson was commanding the Medi- 
terranean Squadron, and lying off the Bay of Biscay, 
the captains of two Spanish frigates lately arrived 
from America sent to entreat the honour of an 
audience with the admiral, merely to give them- 
selves the gratification of seeing a person whom 
they considered to be the greatest man in the world. 


Captain Hardy took their request to Lord Nelson, 
and urged compliance with it, notwithstanding the 
admiral's querulous reply of, " What is there to see 
in an old, withered fellow like myself?" Nelson 
always wore short breeches and silk stockings, and 
at this moment his legs were bound at the knee and 
ankle with pieces of brown paper soaked in vinegar, 
and tied with red tape. The application was to 
allay the irritation of some mosquito bites. Quite 
forgetting this, and the extraordinary appearance it 
presented, he went on deck to the Spanish captains, 
and conducted the interview with such perfect good 
breeding and courtesy that his odd appearance was 
quite forgotten in the charm of his manners, and 
the Spaniards went away with every high opinion 
confirmed which they had previously formed of 
Lord Nelson. 

My father spoke of Lord Nelson as having a 
singular power of attaching to himself all under 
his command, from the highest officer to the lowest 
cabin-boy under his flag. Lord Nelson's sense of 
religion was sincere and strong ; he brought it with 
him into his profession and it never left him to the 
last. My lather said, " Though it did not keep 
him from the fatal error of his life, it ought to be 
remembered that few were so strongly tempted, and 
I believe it may safely be affirmed that had Nelson's 
home been made to him what a wife of good temper 
and judgment would have rendered it, never would 



he have forsaken it." A great cause of disunion 
between them was Lady Nelson's affection for her 
son by her former marriage. She expected his 
stepfather to push him forward in the service, but 
Captain Nisbet was, in Lord Nelson's opinion, un- 
fitted to command, and he considered that it would 
be impossible, or at least very unwise, to put him 
in any responsible position. When at length Com- 
mander Nisbet was made post-captain the admiral 
placed a person upon whom he could depend as 
first lieutenant in the ship, and shortly after this 
first lieutenant came to Lord Nelson and told 
him privately, " You must remove me, for if I 
remain with Captain Nisbet I must break him or 
neglect my own duty to the service." Nelson 
granted the first lieutenant's request. 

In the battle of the Nile, on board one of the 
ships, a midshipman, a very little fellow, was the 
only officer left on deck. He continued sitting 
on a gun-carriage encouraging the men. Lord 
Nelson heard of it and sent for him, and promised 
that when he had served his time he would make 
him a lieutenant. The very first opportunity he 
had, six years afterwards, he did so in preference 
to many others for whom great interest was made 
on the occasion. Afterwards Nelson always be- 
friended him, my father said. 

My father never forgave Captain Hardy for 
turning up all hands and ordering the ship's tailor 


to sew up Mr. Percy's pockets on the quarter-deck. 
It was bitterly cold, and my father had the morning 
watch (in the North Sea). Captain Hardy came 
on deck and found him on watch with his hands 
in his pockets. 

My father, as a midshipman, was bathing at 
Jamaica with others and was as nearly drowned 
as possible. He said his last recollection was 
seeing all his life spread out before him, as it 
might be, at the Judgment day ; then he lost con- 
sciousness, and afterwards thought he was dream- 
ing that he fell asleep in a green meadow through 
which a brook flowed, and that he smelt violets 
and heard sheep bells tinkling. He had been seen 
by a nigger, who rescued him from the reeds and 
mud. The sensation of returning to life in the 
black man's cabin was most painful. 

My father commanded H.M.S. Malabar; he 
was appointed to her on the 16th November 1832, 
and employed in the North Sea in blockading the 
Texel, then sent to Constantinople with a present 
of guns to the Sultan, who presented him with a 
gold snuff-box with an enamel view of the Bos- 
phorus set in large diamonds. 

Captain Josceline Percy commissioned H.M.S. 
Canopus 25th November 1833 to February 1837. 
She was sent to the Mediterranean. She saw no 
special service there, but was the crack show ship of 
the squadron. Her first lieutenant, Mr. Jellicoe, was 


a great tartar, but had the ship in splendid order. 
She carried a glass star at her main-top, seen from 
a great distance when the sun shone on it. As 
rear-admiral, my father was appointed to the Cape 
of Good Hope Station, and hoisted his flag on board 
H.M.S. Winchester. He got his commission the 
17th December 1841. 



H.M.S. Winchester — Rio Janiero — Tropical scenery — A black ball — A 
big gale — Mauritius — Monsieur Geneve — La chasse a« cerf — 
Reduit — A kitcben tragedy — The West Coast of Africa — Among 
the natives — Benguela — The capture of a slaver — Bourbon — 
Admiral Bazoche — A breach of etiquette — Madagascar and 
French jealousy — St. Helena — An eccentric governor — The 
troubles of an A.D.C. — Port Natal — Ascension — Sir James Ross 
— H.M.SS. Erebus and Terror — Life at Admiralty House — A tribe 
of baboons — Harry Keppel — Boer life — The Cloete family — 
Farmer Peck — My brother's death — Return to England. 

My father sailed from Portsmouth on the 9th June 
1842, in his flagship, H.M.S. Winchester, to take 
up his command of the Cape of Good Hope Station. 
My mother, my two younger sisters and myself 
accompanied him, and also my only brother, Alan, 
who was a midshipman on board the Winchester. 

We touched at Madeira, and then went on to 
Rio Janeiro, where we remained some time. My 
brother made us get up and go on deck when we 
made Cape Frio, sixty miles from Rio Janeiro. 

So lovely a sight I never saw or could have 
imagined. The tropical moon was setting, and the 
sun rising. The frigate with mainsails and top- 
gallant sails, &c, set, slipping through the water 



— the sea on that coast so deep at times that we 
could have thrown a biscuit ashore from the poop. 
The blue morning mists floating over the mountains 
and ravines — mahogany trees, and palm trees, in all 
their varieties, cotton trees, and every kind of 
flowering shrub ; the fantastic shape of the Organ 
Mountains were all, with the colouring, beautiful 
beyond description. Was it real, one felt. Or 
would it fade away like a dream ? 

The Winchester was saluted by the forts at the 
entrance of the harbour, and men-of-war of several 
nationalities, and we returned all these salutes be- 
fore we anchored. 

All the voyage from England, after dinner in the 
after-cabin, we played ecarte with the admiral, flag- 
captain, flag-lieutenant, secretary, &c, for paint. 
All the winnings were expended on painting 
the ship, to appear smart on entering Rio, and a 
most sickening smell of paint the quarter-deck had 
in the blazing tropical sun. Soon after anchoring, 
a boat and A.D.C. came off with a letter to my 
father from Mr. Hamilton, the English minister, 
offering us rooms, and inviting us to a dinner 
and ball at the British Legation. Our finery was 
in the hold of the Winchester ; however, young 
Hyde Parker went on shore and bought some very 
pretty artificial flowers for our hair, some gloves and 
sashes, and we managed to rig ourselves out (my 
sister Emily and I) for the dinner and ball. 


We went ashore (it was a very long pull from 
our anchorage) in the Admiral's barge, which was 
hurricane-rigged, and enjoyed ourselves immensely. 
The Hamiltons asked us to stay with them, but my 
father thought we had better sleep on board. The 
nights were gloriously beautiful. 

The Hamiltons provided us with luncheon every 
day, and mounted us well. We went ashore to 
them every morning. My father, the flag-captain, 
and lieutenant, sometimes my brother Alan, would 
accompany us. Hyde Parker and Geoffrey Hornby 
usually landed with us daily and shared our fun ; 
and a most agreeable Eussian minister, Count 
Lomonosoff, who knew the rides well, rode daily 
with us. We rode up the Organ Mountains 
through virgin forests ; in one of these forests 
there were a hundred different kinds of passion- 
flowers. The air plants were wonderful ; laced and 
draped from one enormous tree to another. The 
small horses climb like cats, but I was terribly 
frightened going up the Corcovado, and put my 
arms round my horse's neck to stick on. 

One of our picnic luncheons was interrupted 
by my father hearing a rattle-snake close to us ; I 
neither heard nor saw it. But at TI Juca we saw 
in the pool into which the waterfall emptied itself 
a huge water-snake, immensely long, as well as big 
— a perfect monster. 

We rode all day and danced all night. The 


balls there ended about midnight, so by one o'clock 
we left the Hamiltons and returned to the Win- 
chester in the hurricane-rigged barge. Our partners 
used to vow they should get leave and come out to 
the Cape to dance with us there. Needless to say 
they never did ! 

We vowed eternal friendship to many people 
who were most kind to us, and whom we never 
saw again ! 

We went to a curious Catete ball given by 
blacks. We and the Hamilton party, and the 
members of the other Legations, were the only 
white people there. It was curious, but not at all 
agreeable, as the black gentlemen were very odori- 
ferous, and after dancing they would " promenade " 
for ever round the room. This habit had many 
disagreeables on a tropical night ! 

The Brazils were in 1842 part of the Cape of 
Good Hope command. 

My father gave Mr. Hamilton and the Legations 
a very pretty ball on board the Winchester on our 
leaving for the Cape of Good Hope. 

The Brazils were taken away from the Admiral's 
command before my father left the Cape. It was a 
fine command in 1842, extending from near the 
Equator nominally to the South Pole, and including 
the East and West Coasts of Africa ; but its extent 
was much curtailed before we left in 1846. 

We were very anxious to see a big gale of wind, 


and we were gratified ! In Table Bay, when not far 
from our anchorage in Simon's Bay, we came in for a 
tremendous south-easter. We had to put out to sea 
and get clear of the land for many days. Topmasts 
were taken down, jury-mast rigged, and only very 
small storm-sails set. Life-ropes were placed on 
the quarter-deck, and no meals could be placed on 
the tables even with the " fiddles " on them. We 
sat on the deck of the forecabin for all our meals, 
which consisted of pea-soup or cocoa, which we 
took out of a basin and conveyed to our mouths as 
best we could. No other food could be cooked. 

We saw a convict ship and a troopship standing 
in for Table Bay. We then realised the force of 
the gale and the heavy sea we were in by the 
fearful rolling of these two vessels. My father 
hailed them through a speaking-trumpet, and told 
them if they stood in to Table Bay they would be 
wrecked. They paid no attention and continued 
their course. They were wrecked and fired guns 
of distress. Sir George Napier, the Governor of 
the Cape, jumped up in bed when he heard the 
guns, and said, " Good God I that's the Win- 
chester ! " They were expecting us at Government 
House. Sir George and his staff got up and at 
once went down to the shore, and there were the 
two wretched vessels on the beach — a fearfully 
steep and dangerous one. No boat could live. 
Nothing could be done for the drowning troops 


and convicts ; in such a sea it was hopeless. The 
only people rescued from the waves were saved 
by an officer of the 25th Regiment, who had a 
very clever white horse who was not at all afraid 
of the surf. The few men saved were got hold of 
by this officer by the hair of their heads or any- 
thing he could seize hold of. He and his horse 
went in most gallantly several times. We saw 
these two unfortunate wrecks when we went to 
Government House ; they were lying close in shore. 

We anchored in Simon's Bay on the 1st of Sep- 
tember 1842, and went up to Cape Town to stay 
at Government House with Sir George and Lady 
Napier till the Admiralty House at Simon's Bay 
was ready for us. 

Six months after this we went to Mauritius to stay 
with the Governor and his wife, Sir William and 
Lady Gomm. Port Louis was then very healthy, 
and we stayed there and also at Reduit, their 
country place, for a month. Mauritius was then 
included in the Admiral's command. Balls and 
dinners were endless ! But the only really interest- 
ing visit we paid, excepting that to the Governor, 
was to a very old gentleman, a Monsieur Geneve, 
who was upwards of ninety. He had left France 
when the old Revolution broke out, and in manners 
and everything else he belonged to the ancien 
regime, and was a perfect gentleman. He had a 
large property near the Black River. He and all 


the three generations of his family received us under 
a tree about five o'clock in the afternoon. Monsieur 
Geneve's dwelling consisted of a number of wooden 
pavilions, situated in beautiful grounds. His family 
occupied some of them, while he himself lived in 
another in which were the drawing-rooms and dining- 
rooms. These pavilions looked so picturesque at 
night when each one had a light, like glow-worms, 
in it. They were built on the grass, and the ground 
framed by mountains and tropical trees, ebony, 
mahogany, banyans, tamarind trees, and the Riviere 
Noire, so called from the colour of its water, running- 
through the valley. We were told it was not whole- 
some to sit under tamarind trees after sunset for fear 
of fever. There was no glass to the windows of the 
pavilions, the windows had only wooden shutters, 
and in the morning the black population came 
and put their heads and faces through them to 
watch our toilettes, which was very embarrassing. 
They were especially interested in seeing us brush 
our teeth, as they only used sugar-cane to clean 

Monsieur Geneve used to receive us before six 
o'clock dinner, sitting under a tamarind tree in 
evening dress, looking as if he had stepped out of 
an old French print of 1798. When dinner was 
served we walked up a wooden staircase of his 
pavilion to the dining-room. M. Geneve was much 
beloved by his former slaves ; after their cmancipa- 


tion they would not leave him, but lived in a 
village of wooden habitations which clustered round 
their old master's pavilions. What they did I do 
not know ; they seemed like children, always 
grinning and chattering, and, like all black people 
I ever saw, extremely fond of flowers. 

We made our pilgrimage to Pamplemousse to 
visit the tombs of that very tiresome couple, Paul 
and Virginia. We also saw the whole island, which 
must have been grievously spoilt after our time 
by the cutting down of the virgin forests and the 
planting of rice-fields and sugar-cane in their places ; 
thereby destroying the great beauty of the island, 
and producing fevers unknown in 1 844. Port Louis 
was then a very healthy town, and the Government 
House, so pretty and comfortable, was built round 
an open court, entre cour et jardin — in the old 
French style. The different Stages, with French 
windows opening on to the galleries, were all 
brilliantly lighted at night by bell-shaped glass 
lamps, burning cocoa-nut oil. 

We were invited, when we left M. Geneve, to 
visit the colonel of a regiment, the name of which 
I have forgotten, quartered a few miles off, under 
canvas. The colonel and his wife were most kind, 
and we dined at mess. The evening and morning 
bugle-calls sounded so well, and unlike anything we 
had heard. The absence in Mauritius of all veno- 
mous snakes and insects made one able to sit out on 


the grass or under trees — so enjoyable, and different 
to the Cape or Bourbon. 

One Sunday at the Riviere Noire a young French 
gentleman informed us there would be a chasse au 
cerf in our honour. We found we all had to walk, 
which we did all day long through woods and across 
streams. We never saw the cerf, and, what was far 
worse, we never saw the luncheon — which we were 
told some black men had been ordered to carry on 
ahead of us to the "Montagne des Jackos." Of course 
they had taken it to some quite different place. 
Had it not been for Geoffrey Hornby climbing trees 
and battering down fruits and cocoa-nuts, we should 
have been starved. 

The destruction of the trees and forests, and 
planting of sugar-cane in their place, have destroyed 
the beauty and the health of the island. Though 
Port Louis was, in 1842, perfectly healthy, and 
the Government House a charming residence, when 
my son, Richard, went there during a voyage to 
Australia, the Governor and officials could not 
live in Port Louis, for fever there assumed a bad 
type. My son also stayed at Reduit, and found 
the gardens of the Government House much the 
same as he had heard me describe them, as I re- 
member them nearly sixty years ago. The balls in 
Mauritius began in those days at 9 p.m., and ended 
at 12 o'clock. At Reduit we asked to see the 
"Cook's Tree," which we had heard of from Sir 


Charles Colville, who had been Governor of the 
island. He gave a ball on the occasion, and because 
a leg of mutton did not arrive in time for the supper, 
his French cook, like Vattel in Madame de Sdvigny's 
time, hung himself from a mango tree in the garden. 

Mauritius had been visited by a hurricane just 
before our arrival, and the devastation in the har- 
bours and surrounding country was great. Lady 
Gomm told me they had to have their horses brought 
from the stables into the halls and passages of the 
house at Reduit. The house was slightly built, 
and bent to the hurricane. Solid foundations were 
very dangerous at Mauritius. There were then 
many rich Parsee merchants there, some of them 
very interesting people. Once a year they made 
at Port Louis a bonfire of valuable things. They 
were Fire Worshippers, and probably this bonfire 
was a kind of sacrificial offering to the Sun and 
Light. They were cultivated people, and spoke 
French well. When we were at Mauritius, French 
was generally spoken. My father gave a very pretty 
ball on board the Winchester before leaving, to 
return the many and great civilities shown us. As 
my mother never could go to sea with my father, 
except for the voyage out and home (it was against 
the rules of the service that wives of officers should 
do more than this), I had to take her place, and 
receive my father's guests. 

The Winchester went up to the West Coast of 


Africa for her next cruise. My father asked my 
sister and me if we should like to go. Of course, 
we did. We first anchored in Elephant's Bay, but 
were not allowed to land. The natives were then 
cannibals. Thence we went to Quicombo, where 
we landed with several officers, my father, and the 
doctor of H.M.S. Sappho, who knew the coast well 
and was a great naturalist. We walked two miles 
from the landing, or rather the beach, to a native 
kraal, under a broiling sun. The women turned out 
of the kraal and made a circle round us, putting a 
silly mad woman in the centre. She, like all mad 
people in uncivilised parts, was greatly venerated, 
and thought to be holy. A dance began, which soon 
became wild and furious. The women were nearly 
naked, and the men still more so. The doctor of 
the Sappho told me they had never seen white 
women before, only Portuguese slave-dealers came 
there, and they thought we were spirits. The doctor 
could understand their language a little. He advised 
me to give the mad woman something as a present. 
I could spare nothing except a tour de tete — a kind 
of cap border, made of blonde and artificial yellow 
flowers, which was then (1843) the fashion to 
wear loose under the bonnet, with a yellow ribbon, 
and a sort of back-stay to keep it on the head, 
tied like a cap under the chin ! Two years after 
this the doctor returned to Quicombo. He went to 
the kraal, and found my tour de tete hung up at 


the entrance to the chief hut, and he believed it was 
thought great " medicine," and worshipped as some 
sort of fetish. The men, after the dance, came in 
great crowds and approached too near us. The 
doctor thereupon advised our return to the boats ; 
the savages ran into the sea and swam out a little 
way. When it became too deep for them to stand 
up we were so afraid they would clutch hold of the 
boats, but they did not do so. Crowds of these tall, 
naked savages seemed to spring up out of the ground, 
like Roderick Dhu's men, till we happily lost sight 
of them, and got away from the shore and on board 
the Winchester. H.M.S. Sappho, Captain George 
Hope ; Bittern ; Thunderer, Captain George Broke ; 
and Conivay accompanied the flagship up the West 

The Winchester always lay to at dinner-time, 
and the captains of the other ships came on board 
and dined with us. It was so pretty, when their 
gigs had taken them back to their own ships, to 
see these vessels pass under the stern of the Win- 
chester, and dip their ensigns to the Admiral's flag. 

We went on to Benguela. Fever was raging 
there, and we were not allowed to land. The sea 
was very deep, and the Winchester anchored near 
in shore. The mangroves grew close up the sides 
of the ship, their brilliant, bright metallic green 
looked deadly. It thundered incessantly, day and 
night, all the time we were there : the storms 


were never near, but one growl was taken up by 
another all round. The sky at mid-day was hazy, 
of lurid copper colour, and the sea yellow and oily. 
It was intensely hot, damp, and oppressive. The 
surgeon ordered the ports to be shut a quarter of 
an hour before sunset. The ship's carpenter came 
into our cabin and shut them. The moment he 
had obeyed his orders we opened them again. We 
never got fever. Often when we got up to dress 
in the morning we longed for a fire to dry the 
clothes we took off at night. The only creature 
who enjoyed it was our pet chameleon. 

The Portuguese Governor of Benguela came on 
board to pay his respects to the Admiral. He was 
rowed on board by a crew of black men, with 
scarcely any covering to their naked bodies. Every 
stroke of their oars was accompanied by a harsh 
short chant, very wild and savage. He was asked 
to stay to dinner, which he did, although he had 
the shivering fit of coast fever on him. I sat by 
him and saw that he kept quinine loose in his 
waistcoat pocket, which he took in pinches all 
dinner time. Next year, when ships of the squad- 
ron went up to Benguela, he was dead. 

After we left Benguela and were steering south, 

the officer of the watch came down to the fore 

cabin whilst we were all at luncheon at twelve 

o'clock, and said to my father, "A sail in sight, 

sir, with very raking masts — a slaver, probably." 



" Make all sail," said the Admiral, " and give 
chase." An officer often came down to report 
how we gained upon her. A gun was fired from 
the Winchester, and answered by a small gun 
from the rakish-looking slaver. The boats were 
then ordered out — two cutters, launch, &c, armed. 
The slaver went about, and meant to run for 
a river on the coast. However, the boats took 
her, and next morning her captain was ordered to 
come on board the Winchester. My father inter- 
viewed him in the after cabin. He was a very 
fine young Spaniard, in a beautiful sort of uniform 
with silver filagree buttons — a great dandy. He 
and my father spoke Spanish, which I could not 
understand; he said the captain was not on board, 
and that he was only the supercargo. But they 
always said that when captured. We went on 
board the slaver with my father. The captain's 
cabin was very smart — his guitar with blue ribbons 
lay on his couch, with nice books and every luxury. 
The slave deck was an aivful sight, How human 
beings could be packed into it was marvellous and 
horrible ! They were doubled up, their knees 
meeting their chins. Twice a day the poor wretches 
were ordered up on deck that they might not die, 
as many tried to do ; and if they would not walk, 
and stand upright, they were flogged until they 
did. This slaver was condemned. Condemned 
slavers were at times sent to Sierra Leone, St. 


Helena, and the Cape : the slaves were liberated 
and made apprentices. If apprenticed to Boers, 
they were often more cruelly treated, and regretted 
the days of slavery and good masters. 

We had a black servant called Jumbo ; he was 
a Christian, well educated, and very intelligent. 
He was said to have been a prince in his own 
country. He recollected the agony of being torn 
when very young from his own family, taken down 
country with other niggers, and shut up in a 
" corral " or stockade, into which the blacks were 
driven and kept till a slaver could come up the 
nearest river, and the poor creatures could be em- 
barked and sold as slaves in the Brazils, &c. When 
a slaver came in to be condemned, Jumbo used to 
forget his civilisation and dance his war dance and 
sing for joy. He came home with us, but could 
not stand the cold, and when he saw his breath 
steaming he was frightened, and thought his 
inside was on fire. He was sent back from Ports- 
mouth in the first man-of-war to Admiral Dacres, 
my father's successor at Simon's Bay. We were 
so sorry to part with him. 

We had a Lieutenant Aldrich on board the 
Winchester, a fine fellow, but quite an enthusiast, 
very Low Church. He devoted his life to slaving 
expeditions ; it was quite a passion with him — 
from one slaving expedition he volunteered for 
another. He had a fine voice, and used to sing 


all the old sea songs. He did not care for pro- 
motion, or for money, only for the abolition of 
slavery. He used to bore my father very much, 
but we delighted in him. 

In this narrative I ought to have said that from 
the Mauritius the Winchester went to Bourbon, 
twenty-four hours' sail from Mauritius. At Bourbon 
we were the guests of the French Governor, Admiral 
Bazoche, whom my father had met as an enemy 
in the old war. Admiral Bazoche had no wife. 
He showed us the greatest hospitality, inviting 
the French military officers, the two captains of 
the French men-of-war anchored off Bourbon, and 
the residents to meet us at dinner. He and my 
father used to sit out all day long in a large 
verandah, when we were not riding over the island, 
spinning old war yarns, each in their own language. 
I was at times called in to interpret when Admiral 
Bazoche could not understand my father. The 
Governor gave a dance in his own house in our 
honour, and a large official dinner before it. After 
dinner he got up and proposed the Queen of Eng- 
land's health. He took me in to dinner. I was 
" absent," and forgetting we were not in England, 
and thinking he meant the ladies to withdraw, I 
got up and walked out. His aide-de-camp followed 
me and said, " Mais, Mademoiselle, on boit a la 
santd de la Reine d'Angleterre ! " so, ignominiously, 
I had to walk back to my place at the dinner-table 


and apologise. As they were all French, they 
were much too civil to laugh, but no doubt thought 
I was only one more mad Englishwoman, and more 
or less of a barbarian. 

Though so near Mauritius there were snakes and 
scorpions on this island. St. Patrick had not come 
from Mauritius to Bourbon to exorcise and destroy 
reptiles. The tropical fruits at Bourbon were delicious 
— such Mangosteins and Avocado pears — " Alligator" 
pears, as the sailors call them. The Winchester was 
to have gone from Bourbon to Madagascar, but the 
French captains (how I hated them ! ) told my father 
that fever was raging there, and that in consequence 
the ladies could not land at Tamatave, and so dis- 
suaded him from going there. I was furious, and 
thought at the time that they merely wanted to keep 
English men-of-war away from Madagascar ; as long 
ago as in 1843 the French meant to be paramount in 

We had to leave Bourbon in a hurry. The glass 
was going down for a gale, and the Winchester and 
all the large ships would have had to put to sea. 
The anchorage is not safe, and the coast of that 
island is a fearful one to go ashore on — steep volcanic 
mountains, reefs of rocks running far out into the 
sea, and high cliffs — very unlike the coast of 

From Bourbon we went to St. Helena, landing 
at James Town, with our heads full of Napoleon 


Buonaparte. We found on landing two pony 
carriages and a cart for our maid, valet, and luggage, 
and a letter of invitation to my father and us from 
the Governor, delivered by his aide-de-camp, who 
said our rooms were ready for us, and that he was 
there to escort us to Government House. So we 

drove up the winding road, Captain riding at 

the wheel like an equerry ! At last we got to the 
top of the long hilly road, and at the entrance of 
the grounds of Plantation House found a man who 
was placed to open the gate. He shrieked out 
"Welcome to St. Helena!" Further on, another 
servant in livery appeared, who also shrieked the 
same "Welcome," &c. This upset my father's and 
my gravity, and we were inwardly convulsed, when 
lo ! the Governor, in full Windsor uniform, with 
white Berlin gloves on his large hands, and a quite 
gigantic spud in one hand, stood near the last en- 
trance gate and called out, "Welcome to St. Helena!" 
He was a very tall, fine man, much over six feet. 
He handed me out of the pony carriage. I felt 
shaking with suppressed laughter, and did not 
dare to look at my father ; he, the Governor, very 
pompously conducted us into the drawing-room 
and introduced us to his wife and daughters, 
and to other ladies of his family and staff. We 
were taken to our rooms, but the Governor's 
wife soon came to tell us to make haste and 
dress, as there was to be a large dinner party, 


and then a ball ! When my father and we two 
girls came into the drawing-room, the pompons 
presentations were enough to make one scream 
with laughter. My father was introduced to the 
colonel of the regiment quartered there, and the 
chief officials, as "a most distinguished officer, a 
gentleman of most illustrious birth, &c, a Percy 
of Northumberland, &c, &c. ;" I, as "a lovely 
and accomplished young lady," and we saw a 
twinkle in every one's eye so introduced to us ! The 
Governor took me down to dinner — served at long 
tables with plates touching each other ; one could 
not sit square to the table, and the scuffle of the 
servants trying to wait on so many guests jammed 
together was indescribable. All the naval and 
military officers were in full uniform. The worst 
part of the dinner was the then general, but intoler- 
able, custom of drinking wine with ladies. The 
Governor kept on, " Miss Percy, may I have the 
honour of drinking a glass of wine with you. 
Colonel So-and-so — Major — Captain — &c, will you 
join us 1 " And so it went on incessantly, the 
servants filling up my glass each time, and I 
could not tell where all these strange officers sat, 
or who to bow to. Luckily I saw them bow their 
heads and stare at me ! I was so afraid, with 
the heat of the room, the amusement of it ail, and 
the wine, of falling under the table ! 

At last it was over. The Governor's wife and 


the ladies took us into the drawing-rooms, where the 
ladies talked Island scandal, and then sang songs. 
" Yivi tu," " Nora Creena," Irish ballads, and " Hey, 
the bonny breast-knots," were the favourites. Then 
in due time came the ball, and the ridiculous intro- 
ductions to me of officers as partners. One young 
soldier and I burst out laughing in each other's 
faces when the Governor described my attractions 
to him, and the honour it was for him to dance 
with me ! 

Of course we went to see Longwood and the 
whole island. The Governor was most kind in pro- 
viding my father and us with nice horses, and his 
unfortunate aide-de-camp had to attend us every- 
where. This aide-de-camp and son-in-law's patience 
surpassed Job's — it was "Dear," all day long from 
the ladies, " do this," " do that ; " he certainly was 
having his purgatory, and was a perfect souffre 
douleur in Plantation House. 

On Sunday we were taken down to church in 
James Town. The ladies did not go to church. 
The Governor asked us into his square pew, in which 
was a small table with a bottle of eau-de-cologne 
upon it. Immediately after I had entered the pew, 
the Governor in a loud voice said, " Dab your face 
over with eau-de-cologne, Miss Percy." During the 
service he made all the responses in a stentorian 
voice ; during the sermon, when he approved of 
what the preacher said, he stood up and exclaimed, 


"Very good — Amen!" "Very proper — indeed — 
Amen ! " with emphasis. We could not help 
shaking with laughter, which "dear," the aide-de- 
camp, who sat opposite to us, of course saw. 

After the West Coast of Africa, the climate, 
though delicious, felt damp, and, I thought, cold. 
The most pathetic thing I saw at St. Helena was a 
small triangular field, a ploughed field, on the slant 
of the steep hill, where the great Emperor Napoleon, 
a conqueror in so many battles, used to dig for exer- 
cise. It struck one very much and made one hate 
Sir Hudson Lowe. 

My father gave a farewell ball on board the 
Winchester. Most of the ladies on the island were 
not on speaking terms, gossip and scandal being 
their only conversation. I tried to apologise to the 
Governor's wife for my fits of laughing, which I 
often could not control, and as an excuse said that 
after the West Coast I felt St. Helena so very 
invigorating. She kindly said, "My dear, you are 
so cheerful, we shall miss you very much," and I 
felt so guilty and uncomfortable. 

The young officers of the Winchester, my 
brother Alan, Geoffrey Hornby, and Hyde Parker 
nearly died of amusement at the Governor ; he was 
so pompous and surpassed himself on the quarter- 
deck of the Winchester when he took leave of the 
Admiral, us, the staff, officers of the watch, and 
even the men — before he went over the side of the 


ship and returned to his island. It is a pity that 
in those days there were no photographs. I should 
like to have had one of him, with his spud, fit for 
Goliath, in his hand. He was of a good old Cornish 
family, and really exceedingly kind and hospitable. 

We were a fortnight at St. Helena, and then 
up-anchored for Port Natal. The weather was so 
stormy that we could not anchor off Port Natal, 
and the boats could not safely shoot the bar, as the 
surf was too great ; the men said a shark always 
accompanied a boat going to shoot the bar. We 
saw through a telescope the oars of the crossing 
boat tossed up like spillikins — not safe for women. 
It blew a gale, and a very heavy sea ran off the 
bank of Agulhas ; there is — or was in 1843 — a 
bell-rock there, and in a gale it sounded very 
weird, so like a knell, for many have perished 
on that spot. 

On our voyage home we again touched at St. 
Helena, but "a change had come o'er the spirit of the 
dream," and I could see no amusement in the new 
Governor. From St. Helena we went to Ascension, 
a most curious volcanic island. Artists ought to go 
there to study colour. The Governor was Lieutenant 
Robinson, R.N. We had to walk up to Government 
House from the beach over cinders so hot it spoilt 
our shoes and hurt our feet. We were entertained 
at luncheon by the Governor. The madeira seemed 
so fiery that I had the bad taste to ask for water. 


There was no drinking water on the island ; they 
had not then learnt to distil sea water; and there 
were no light wines. We asked the Governor and 
his daughters to come on board on Sunday for 
divine service and luncheon. They had not had 
service in church for so long that the ladies were 
so affected they burst into tears. At sunset 
the glare and lights on the rocks of the island 
gave the most strange appearance — reds, yellows, 
black — one could only think of the infernal regions. 
The morning and evening guns were not allowed to 
be fired there, in order not to disturb the turtle, 
who are very nervous creatures. They gave my 
father a turtle, and very tired we got of turtle 
soup. We asked the ladies what they would like 
to have of our possessions, and they said Pins ! 
They had none. The heat there was great. There 
was one mountain they called Green Mountain, 
but I saw no green on it. The island was a 
study in colouring of the Satanic kind. I think 
they said there were in all six ladies on the island, 
and the Governor's two daughters ; but as none of 
them could speak to one another they could not 
be asked to meet us. The Miss Robinsons' hair 
looked like fried parsley, from the dryness of the 

I forgot to say that at St. Helena we were told 
that we were at war with America, so we were 
greatly excited. General quarters often took place 


at night, to practise the officers and men to be ready 
for action. My father told us privately the hour he 
meant to beat to quarters, that we might be ready 
to come on deck to see. The men came up in an 
incredibly short time, like ants, with their ham- 
mocks rolled up and stowed away on the top of 
the bulwarks to protect them from shot. The guns 
were exercised and sometimes fired, as if really in 
action, starboard boarders ordered with cutlasses to 
the gangway, &c, exactly as if the ship were engag- 
ing an enemy. It was most exciting when the guns 
really fired — there is nothing, to my mind, so ex- 
hilarating as the firing of heavy guns. 

We had a big black tom-cat who always came up 
on deck if there was firing, and sat on the hammocks 
in the bulwarks. 

Sir James Ross and Captain Crozier, in H.M.SS. 
Erebus and Terror, anchored in Simon's Bay on 
their way from the Antarctic to England. The two 
captains spent a month with us at the Admiralty 
House. They remained at Simon's Bay, &c, for 
scientific purposes and observation there and at the 
Magnetic Observatory at Cape Town. The Astrono- 
mer Royal, Mr. M 'Clear, was a great friend of ours. 
My father invited him to meet them. I used to 
make little bouquets for the men who dined with us 
as guests — not for the staff. I gave one buttonhole 
to Mr. M'Clear, and in his broad Scotch he looked at 
the flowers and said : " Is there any peculeearity, 


Ma'am, in these flowers ? " He could not understand 
anything not having reference to science. Never- 
theless, the Astronomer Royal had a beautiful wife ; 
they used to sit hand in hand and watch the sun 
rise from the Observatory. 

Sir James Ross and Captain Crozier were like 
brothers ; so attached by their mutual tastes, and 
dangers shared together. Their hands shook so 
much they could hardly hold a glass or cup. Sir 
James Ross told me when he took me in to dinner 
one day : " You see how our hands shake ? One 
night in the Antarctic did this for both of us. A 
fearful gale arose, and a heavy sea was running 
— icebergs, lumps of ice in some parts, and a 
wall of ice before us, through a hole and rent in 
which we knew we must steer and find a passage. 
It was a pitch dark night, and the only way by 
which we could know where the division in the 
ice wall was, was a darker gap, which we knew 
must be the rent, or passage. Both Erebus and 
Terror steered for the blackest gap. We could not 
see each other, and we both thought we had run 
each other down, as we could not see or find our 
companion ship." They were twenty-four hours 
before they sighted each other ; it shook their 
nerves more than anything that had yet befallen 
them. Crew and officers on board both vessels were 
picked men. Captain (Commander) Fitz James we 
had known in Hertfordshire ; he was the strongest, 
most energetic man I ever saw, and for long we 


could never believe he had perished at the North 
Pole — death and he appeared to have nothing in 
common. Captain Crozier said in neither of the two 
ships had their medicines and surgery stores ever 
been used except once for an accident to a man's 
hand. In Simon's Bay the men fell ill. They all 
felt the heat intensely, though it was the Cape 
winter. We were very sorry to part with the Erebus 
and Terror. They described the weather at the South 
Pole as so far worse in storms than at the North 
Polar regions. We never saw any of them again. 

My sister Alice and I made many long excursions 
on horseback and foot. My father allowed it, provided 
we always took two Kroomen with us. There were 
six black Kroomen attached as housemaids and 
under-gardeners to Admiralty House. It was an 
understood thing that no officers joined us in our 
expeditions without my father — who had no wish to 
join in them ! We got up one morning at 3 a.m., had 
breakfast, took two Kroomen, who slung a large 
basket of provisions on a pole over their shoulders, 
and started to walk up Simon's Berg. The officers 
of the Winchester said we could not do it. We 
asked my father to give us an old Union Jack, and a 
long pole, which the Kroomen carried. A quarter of 
the way up the mountain I told my sister Alice that 
my heart was so bad I could not go a step further. 
She laughed at me and said, " Nonsense ! " So, after 
a rest, on we went, often resting, with the constant 


dread of puff adders which abounded on that hill. 
"We got to the top about 7 a.m. and found rocks, 
and the highest with a hole in it ; and by 8 
o'clock, on the stroke of it, as we said, the pole was 
made fast by the Kroomen, and the Union Jack 
hoisted. The men-of-war in the harbour looked like 
tiny boats, but when all were up on the quarter-deck 
of the Winchester and " God save the Queen " and 
"Rule Britannia" played, every telescope and glass 
was focussed on the top of Simon's Berg, the officers 
told us, and our flag showed them we were at the 
top ! The Kroomen were making a fire for our 
breakfast, when, by some instinct — for nothing was 
to be seen — they said baboons were approaching, 
and that we and they must hide in a "big hole, nearly 
a cave, in the rocks, with bushes in front of it. In 
we went ; before long a rush and a whirr was heard, 
and a troop of baboons dashed by at a great pace. 
It was a great escape, for they are very fierce and 
dangerous in a wild state. The Kroomen said it 
was very dry in the mountains, and that the baboons 
were going down in search of water. 

We were ravenous, and coffee and food I never 
thought so good before. The Kroomen spread a 
tablecloth, and we thoroughly enjoyed ourselves, 
surrounded by gorgeous heaths, arums, and enormous 
bushes of geraniums like trees, mimosa of all sorts, 
and bulbs, ixias, &c. 

The names of our two Kroomen were " Half 


Dinner" and "After Dinner." They were upwards 
of six feet. They had no form of religion, but 
before drinking they always poured out a little 
water on the earth. We asked them why they did 
it. They only grinned and said, " Not know ; black 
men always do : " but only Kroomen did it. 

They were fine men, but hideously ugly ; just 
like merry, tiresome children ; extremely fond of 
flowers and bright colours, and very disobedient. 
If told to go one way, they made a point of going 
the other ; and we often thought we had lost them. 

The next thing was to get down Simon's Berg, 
which we meant to do on the opposite side, so as 
to get a view of the other sea. It was too steep to 
walk, so we had to sit and slide, and get down 
sitting as best we could, in dreadful fear of puff 
adders and cobras. We never saw one. We got 
back to Simon's Bay about 5 p.m. or so, had a warm 
bath, a good supper, and went to bed, then got up 
and danced ! 

Another time my sisters took the horses up to 
a cave, but they could not and would not at first go 
down the hill. They got off and petted them in vain. 
Then they had to pelt them down, with their bridles 
tied up to prevent their putting their feet in them. 
The horses were so good, but very nervous. Up 
that hill the flowers were gorgeous and beautiful, 
and if one went the same ride a fortnight later there 
was a different and fresh crop of bulbs and ixias. 


Some green ones like chrysophrases. There were no 
trees, only mimosa bushes. We always took the 
horses' food in bags over the pommel of our saddles, 
knee-haltered them, and the Kroomen gave them 
a roll, with their bridles still on, of course ! They 
were as tame as dogs, and never ill. 

They were terrified at snakes. We were sitting 
down one day for tea ; the two horses plunged, 
reared, and nearly broke away from where we had 
tied them up. We looked down and saw a huge 
snake wriggling under the tablecloth the Kroomen 
had spread on the ground. We rushed away and 
the Kroomen killed the snake, a venomous and very 
large one. 

My sister Alice and I took delightful rides early, 
before the sun was up, to the end of Cape Point. 
Once up the hill — " mountain," they called it, or 
" Red Hill " — it was a delightful hand gallop over 
turf flat for miles. At Cape Point we rested, break- 
fasted, and fed the horses, who enjoyed it as much 
as we did, and if we wanted to get off and walk, 
followed us. They did all but speak. 

We saw a wonderful scourge of locusts at the 
Cape, like the description of the plague of them in 
the Old Testament. They came down with an east 
wind, devouring the crops, and vines, and all vege- 
tation in their passage south, devastating Constantia, 
&c, &c. In the sea they were so thick that the 
captain's gig could hardly make its way through 


their dead bodies. We started to ride to Constantia 
to see the devastation of the vines, but had to 
turn back in the first bay as the horses would not 
face them, and they flew in our faces and all over 
us. It was a plague, and ruined Constantia vines 
for that year. Short of seeing it one could not have 
believed it. 

The Bellerophon and Andromache came in from 
China. Their crews always fought desperately 
when they ever met. The sailors called them the 
"Billy Ruffian" and the "Andrew Macky." The 
captain of the Andromache invited us to dinner 
and a dance on board. In an absent fit, when I 
was bored to death dancing with him, I heard my- 
self asking him " How long the ' Andrew Macky ' 
had been on the Chinese station ? " He looked at 
me with surprise and contempt. He was a stupid, 
stiff, matter-of-fact man who could understand no 

Captain, now Admiral Sir Harry Keppel, H.M.S. 
Dido, came into Simon's Bay from China. When 
she left to be paid off in England Harry Keppel did a 
most venturesome thing ; he took the Dido full sail 
inside the Roman Bock at Simon's Bay, a thing never 
done before except by very small boats. My father 
was watching her go out through his glass and was 
greatly alarmed, and said if she struck on a rock 
Harry Keppel would be tried by a court-martial and 
broke. Luckily there was a good breeze and Harry 


Keppel, who 110 doubt knew what he was about, 
being a splendid sailor, crammed on canvas and she 
got through. The men of the Dido used to tell 
stories about her, and said their captain carried on 
such an amount of sail that in the Indian Ocean 
one night the Dido turned round under water, and 
that only the captain's luck ever righted her. The 
men said they could prove this miracle by their 
hammocks ! She cost the dockyard at Simon's Bay 
a great deal in spars and sails. Harry Keppel 
drove tandems furiously down absolute precipices ; 
one place was always shown to new-comers, and 
called " Keppel's Folly." He laid a bet he would 
drive tandem down it, and he did. 

While we were at Simon's Bay we made a 
journey up the country to the Paarl and other places. 
My mother and her maid travelled in a waggon which 
the Governor lent to us, and my sisters and I rode 
with my father. 

We stayed at the houses of various Boer farmers, 
as in those days there were no hotels, and indeed 
scarcely any roads in the country. The Boers took 
in travellers, .who paid for their accommodation and 
food as though at an inn. 

I recollect on one occasion arriving at a Boer's 
house, where we were obliged to put up for the 
night. The farmer, a gigantic individual, came up 
to me and said, " Get down from your horse." 
told him we were very hungry, and asked when we 


could have some dinner or supper. He said the 
hour, and as it was a case of waiting a considerable 
time, I asked if we might have some bread to eat. 

He simply replied, " No ! " 

We were obliged to wait for supper, at which 
the Boer's family appeared and ate with us. There 
were two pretty girls, and a tutor, and a very fat 

The vrows seemed to drink tea all day long ; I 
saw no coffee in those days. They sat with their 
feet on a kind of footstool containing charcoal. The 
old lady asked a great many questions. " How old 
are you ? " " Are you married ? " " Why not ? " 
" Why are you so thin ? " &c. 

After supper we walked about with the young 
ladies and the tutor, and after that they sang. It 
was not at all amusing. Our bedrooms we would 
willingly have exchanged for the bare ground, and 
would have done so had we not been afraid of 
hurting our host's feelings. The rooms smelt of 
cockroaches, and the beds were horribly stuffy with 
feather mattresses and huge eider-down quilts. 
Luckily we were very tired from riding all day, and 
so slept in spite of many disagreeables. 

We left early next morning, with no regret, as 
soon as my father had paid our bill. The fat house 
vrow was really very kind, but her husband was 
very grumpy and rude, though I daresay he did not 
mean to be so. 


We rode through a beautiful wood of quite large 
orange trees laden with fruit. The Dutch called 
it the " Wait-a-bit Valley," as waggons halted there 
and were " outspanned," horses were knee-haltered, 
and human beings and animals rested and had their 
luncheons under the trees. 

I always thought " outspanning " delightful. 
The waggons had no springs, and as there were 
no roads, riding was much the more agreeable way 
of travelling, and far less tiring. 

There was, in 1844, a delightful farm and house 
belonging to Laurence Cloete called Zandoliet, on 
the Cape Flats. We spent a few very pleasant days 
there. It was most interesting to see all the vast 
herds of cattle and ostriches go out in the mornings 
and return at evening to the farm, and made one 
think of Jacob and Laban's herds. The house was 
most comfortable, and the family who owned it 
were charming. They used to dance every evening. 
Before dinner, Mr. Laurence Cloete used to stand 
on his door-step, put his hands to his mouth, and 
give a tremendous " View halloa," in case any 
traveller had lost his way — true patriarchal hos- 
pitality ! The last day of our stay with the Cloetes 
we had a jackal hunt over the Flats. My saddle 
kept turning round and round, and I was frightened 
to death, as the ground was very rough and full of 
holes. However, nothing happened to me. 


I hope that Zandoliet is as delightful now as 
it was between 1842 and 1846, with equally nice 
and hospitable owners. 

There was a " half-way house " at a place called 
Kalks Bay, about seven miles from Simon's Bay, 
where we often used to breakfast on our rides from 
Cape Town. It was owned by a well-known char- 
acter at the Cape in those days called Farmer Peck. 
I believe he had been a famous smuggler. He gave 
excellent breakfasts, and had some very good cham- 
pagne, which he used to produce if we had luncheon 
or dinner there. He was an old rogue, if ever there 
was one, but very amusing ! He waited on his 
guests, talking to them all the while they ate. 
The dining-room walls were covered with glaring- 
coloured prints. One of these, to our amusement, 
represented my uncle Henry Percy bringing the 
despatches home from Waterloo. My uncle was 
depicted in uniform, inside a post-chaise, out of 
the windows of which stuck the captured eagles, 
the horses galloping away from Dover en route for 
London. The print was labelled — 

" Lord Percy bringing home the Duke of Wellington's 

Despatch from Waterloo." 

I always regret that we did not ask Farmer 
Peck to let us purchase this print from him, as I 
have never seen another of the same subject. 


I describe the incident which it represents in 
another chapter of this book. 

I remember asking Farmer Peck what was his 
reason for building another house across the road 
immediately opposite to his own. He replied, 
"For change of air for Mrs. Peck," accompanying 
his words with a wink. 

Farmer Peck must long ago have joined the 
majority. He was reputed to be very rich, and 
certainly he could not have spent much upon his 
personal adornment, for he was never seen except 
in his shirt-sleeves. He was very kind always to 
us and to our horses, which we often sent on ahead 
of us to be put up at his house, in order to be fresh 
for the next day's ride. 

Big game of all kinds was, of course, much more 
plentiful, and found much nearer Cape Town, than 
is now the case. 

My brother Alan returned to us at Simon's Bay 
at Christmas 1843 from Mauritius, ill with fever. 
He had volunteered for service on the East Coast 
of Africa, thinking that he would learn his profes- 
sion better than in the flagship. 

At Mauritius he caught a severe chill from 
imprudent bathing. This brought on fever, and 
eventually consumption. He died at Admiralty 
House on 25th June 1844, and lies buried in the 
cemetery at Simon's Bay. 


He was made lieutenant before his death, and 
fretted terribly when the doctors told him he must 
give up the service if he wished to live. He felt 
leaving his profession to be worse than death, and 
used to say, " Oh, if I could die in action and not 
live rotting here ! " He was so full of life, energy, 
and fun. He went to sea first in H.M.S. Herald 
to join H.M.S. Melville in China. He went through 
the Chinese war, and had severe fever at Chusan, 
which weakened his constitution. Captain Dundas 
of the Melville said that when a vessel they had 
captured at the Bogus Forts was sinking, Alan was 
missed. When the men and officers had been ordered 
off the sinking ship to their boats, Alan had gone 
below to bring up two cages of birds, and narrowly 
escaped going down with the vessel. The family 
love for animals was strong in him. He knew the 
ship was sinking, but would not let the birds 

Our voyage home to England was uneventful. 
When we made our number at Spithead the excite- 
ment on board was great to know if we were at war 
with the United States. 

We landed at Portsmouth on the 22nd of April 

My father got a severe chill while engaged in 
paying off the Winchester. We were detained in 
the George Hotel by his very dangerous illness 


through May and most of June. My future hus- 
band, to whom I had been engaged since 30th May 
1840, was at Portsmouth to meet us. My father 
never really recovered this illness. The doctors 
were very stupid and gave him strong tonics, in- 
stead of treating him for his real malady, which 
was internal gout. 



My marriage — Country visits — Nice — Paris — Lord and Lady Cowley 
— The Wellesleys — The Praslin murder — Louis Philippe and 
Queen Amelie — Lady Mary Bagot — The Emperor — Sir Charles 
Bagot — The Duke of Wellington — Tyninghame — Drumlanrig — 
The Buccleuchs — The Grevilles — Lord Alvanley — Lady Morning- 
ton — Admiral Byng — Brussels and "Waterloo — Family anecdotes — 
How the Waterloo despatches reached London — Henry Percy — Sir 
William Ponsonby — The Duke of Wellington and Waterloo— Sir 
Peregrine Maitland — Louis XVIII. and Fouche — Letters of Lord 
Charles Percy — George III. and the Prince of Wales — Sir Charles 
Napier — Lady Ashburnham — The Duchess of Gloucester. 

I was married on the 7th July 1846 in Rick- 
mansworth Church, by my uncle, the Bishop of 
Carlisle. My husband and I spent our honeymoon 
at Elford Hall, near Tamworth, which his cousin, 
Mrs. Greville Howard, lent to us for the occasion. 

My dear father was so weak from his illness that 
he could with great difficulty get to the church to 
give me away, and I cried the whole way from 
Watford to Rugby at being obliged to leave him 
still so ill. 

At Rugby my husband said it was rather hard 
upon him, after waiting so many years for me, 
that I should spend my wedding-day in tears, so 

I thought I had better stop crying and try to pull 



myself together. We Mere at Elford six weeks, 
and then paid visits to King's Bromley, Blithfield, 
Teddesley, and other places belonging to my hus- 
band's and my own relatives. 

I became delicate from the cold of England 
after having been so long in warm climates, and we 
went to Nice for the winter, where we took a house 
close to where Sir George and Lady Napier were 
living ; they were delighted with my husband, and 
he with them, and we saw a great deal of each 

On our return from Nice we spent some months 
in Paris. 

Lord Cowley, the Duke of Wellington's brother 
and my husband's great-uncle, was our Ambassador 
at Paris at that period, and both he and Lady Cowley 
were very kind to me. 

It was an interesting time. Louis Philippe's 
throne was tottering. The Queen, Amelie, often 
came to the English Embassy ; she was the only 
man among those Bourbon-Orleans, and, had she 
had her way, would never have fled from Paris with- 
out a fight for the crown. She was also the best 
woman possible — really a saint. Lord Cowley died, 
when we were in Paris, at the Embassy, from the 
effects of a severe cold. My husband of course went 
to his funeral. He was the most charming of all 
that Wellesley family, and the most lovable. Only 
one of them, Lord Mornington, sat in the House 


of Lords by inheritance ; the others, Lord Wellesley, 
the Duke, and Lord Cowley, won their seats by their 
deeds and talents. The Duke had a wonderful 
memory. He knew all the Psalms by heart. An 
old lady once pushed her Prayer-book into his hand 
at the Chapel Royal, shocked that he had none of 
his own ; he told her he did not require it. As 
boys, in their father Lord Mornington's private 
chapel at Dangan Castle in Ireland, they had daily 
service and a band, and the Duke would play the 
violin. They were all more or less musical. 

The clouds were gathering, and the storm brew- 
ing that swept away Louis Philippe in 1848. Bad 
omens in the shape of bank failures, money losses, 
and Bourse panics ruining many people, occurred in 
1847. Later came the shocking murder of the poor 
Duchesse de Praslin by her husband, which brought 
contempt and disgrace on the upper class. The un- 
fortunate Duchess thought their house was haunted, 
as her husband often prowled round her room and 
bed in the dead of night before he could nerve him- 
self to commit the crime. His poor wife complained 
that she saw des revenants at nights about her bed, 
and that when these revenants came to her room 
one of them wearing a green mask would approach 
her bedside and bend over her. 

His green mask was one of the things that con- 
victed the Due de Praslin of murdering her. 

At the outbreak of the Revolution, Queen Marie 


Ame'lie showed the greatest courage. When she 
urged Louis Philippe to show himself to his people 
and put himself at the head of his troops, he de- 
clined, and afterwards said : " Que pouvais-je faire 
done? entre Montpensier qui pleurait, et Nemours 
qui se trouvait mal ! " 

I never saw Louis Philippe while we were in 
Paris in 1 847 ; but the high-couraged Queen drove 
about in her State carriage and showed herself in 
the streets to the people, who were already very 
disaffected towards the Monarchy. During Lord 
Cowley's fatal illness she repeatedly came to the 
British Embassy to inquire after him. 

Had the Duke d'Orleans lived he would have 
put himself at the head of the troops in Paris, and 
died rather than make his escape to England, giving 
up all his rights to the mob. He was a very different 
man from the present possessor of that title. 

When my father-in-law, Sir Charles Bagot, was 
Charge d' Affaires at Paris, my mother-in-law went 
to Notre Dame to see the Emperor Napoleon go to 
offer thanksgiving there. She ought not to have 
gone and so went as a private person. Sir Charles 
Bagot, in his capacity of Charge d'Affaires to the 
King's Government, could not go. The Emperor 
passed close to Lady Mary Bagot, who was in the 
nave of the Cathedral. He clearly saw her and 
knew who she was, for, as she went incognita, she 
had ordered her carriage to go to a small door 


at the side of the Cathedral ; when she went for it, 
it was not there, but had been told to go to the great 
entrance of the Cathedral, evidently by command, 
in order to let her know that her presence had been 
perceived ! She told my husband and his brothers 
that she never saw such an eye as that of the 
Emperor. He seemed to see every single person 
and everything. It struck Lady Mary as something 
absolutely wonderful. 

Sir Charles Bagot, G.C.B, was born in 1781. 
He was a son of the first Lord Bagot and the 
Hon. Louisa St. John, his wife, a daughter of the 
second Lord St. John. In 1806 he married Lady 
Mary Wellesley, eldest daughter of the Earl of 
Mornington. In 1807 he was appointed Under 
Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs, and in 18 14 
Minister Plenipotentiary to the French Court. In 
18 1 5 he went to the United States as Envoy Extra- 
ordinary and Minister Plenipotentiary, where he 
remained until 18 19, gaining the sympathy of the 
American Government and contributing not a little 
to the consolidation of a good feeling with England. 

In 1820 he was appointed Ambassador to the 
Czar Alexander I. at St. Petersburg. In November 
1824 he was appointed Ambassador at the Hague. 
At this time Belgium and the Netherlands were 
under the same Government, and Great Britain 
was represented at the capitals of the two countries 
by an Embassy of the First Class. At the Revolu- 


tion, which ended in the division of the two States, 
Sir Charles returned to England, and was soon after- 
wards reappointed to St. Petersburg, and was at 
the same time appointed special Ambassador to the 
Emperor of Austria. These appointments, however, 
were never taken up, as Mr. Canning went out of 
office. He was subsequently offered the Governor- 
Generalship of India, but declined it. 

Whilst at Washington he had contracted a 
disease of the liver, and his doctors warned him that 
a hot climate would infallibly prove fatal to him. 1 

Owing to his popularity with the United States 
Government he was urged to accept the Governor- 
Generalship of Canada at the commencement of the 
difficulties arising in connection with the Canadian 
Boundary question. Though in ill-health he con- 
sidered it to be his duty to go, and during his term 
of office he was successful in framing the negotia- 
tions on the Boundary question, which were eventu- 
ally continued and completed by his successor, 
Lord Durham. He died at Kingston, in Canada, 
on the 19th of May 1843, and his remains were 
brought to this country and interred in the family 
vaults in Blithfield Church. 

He was an extremely witty, agreeable, and hand- 
some man ; a close friend of Canning's, and of most 
of the political and literary men of his day of all 

1 Mr. Canning's letter offering the Viceroyalty of India to Sir 
Charles Bagot is dated 4th June 1827. 


nationalities. It was to Sir Charles Bagot, when 
Ambassador at the Hague, that Mr. Canning 
addressed his famous despatch in verse, which, 
as I have seen it wrongly quoted on several occa- 
sions, I venture to append — 

" In matters of commerce the fault of the Dutch 
Is giving too little and asking too much ; 
With equal advantage the French are content, 
So we'll clap on Dutch bottoms at twenty per cent. 

Twenty per cent., 

Twenty per cent., 
Nous frapperons Falk with twenty per cent." 

A dispute on a question of tariffs with Falk, 
the Dutch Prime Minister, was the subject of this 

There is a mass of interesting correspondence 
belonging to Sir Charles Bagot preserved at Levens, 
including journals kept during his Embassy to the 
Russian Court, where he and Lady Mary Bagot were 
very popular. 

My husband was at Paris with his father, 
who was at the Embassy there, when Napoleon 
first escaped from Elba. He was taken as a boy 
of seven by his father's confidential servant to 
the Tuileries, and saw Napoleon carried shoulder 
high by the soldiers in triumph to the private 
entrance in the courtyard of the Tuileries. My 
husband took me in 1847 to look at the entrance 
and staircase. It is grievous now to look at the 
ground upon which the great historical palace, which 


I remember so well, stood — passed away for ever, 
with all its memories of the old Monarchy and 

I remember interesting dinners at Sir Robert 
Peel's, but Lady Jersey's evening parties dwell in 
my recollection as by far the most agreeable of 
any, for they were never crowded. No one better 
knew how to tenir salon than Lady Jersey. One 
dinner at Lady Westmorland's remains in my 
memory : it was an early dinner, and we were to 
go to the opera after it. The Duke of Wellington 
came into Lady Westmorland's box, and then she 
reminded him that I had become his great-niece. 
He took my hand and kept it throughout the act. 
My husband said to me afterwards, " Why did you 
not speak to the Duke ? " I had been brought up 
with such intense admiration of him by my father 
and uncles that I was struck dumb. I simply felt 
that I was sitting hand in hand with the saviour of 
England and Europe ! 

In the autumns of 1848-49-50 we went from 
Blithfield and Levens to Tyninghame. Lord Had- 
dington had been a great friend of Sir Charles 
Bagot's, and his friendship continued to my husband 
and to me, for my father-in-law's sake. No place 
could be more enjoyable in autumn than Tyning- 
hame. What delightful mornings I have spent in 
the Fir Links (wood), close to the sea, watching the 
solan geese fish and fly about the Bass Rock. After 



the great gale that did such havoc in Binning Wood 
I never saw Tyninghame, being unable to go there 
with my husband. We went one autumn before 
going to Tyninghame to stay with the Duke and 
Duchess of Buccleuch at Drumlanrig, and had a very 
pleasant visit there. The border county is so full of 
interest, and Walter Scott — how much of its charm 
Scotland owes to him! I recollect the Duchess of 
Buccleuch telling me that some little time before we 
were there they had tried to revive old border games, 
but they had to be stopped ; the old border rivalry 
broke out dangerously, and Scott and Percy retainers 
took to serious fighting. Also, she said, one of their 
retainers had asked whether he and his men might 
not pull some small English border town down, to 
revenge an imaginary slight to the Scots ! I cannot 
recollect what year that was in, or the name of the 
small town. The old border spirit was long in 
dying out ; indeed, it has not entirely died out yet. 
The terraced gardens at Drumlanrig are most beauti- 
ful, and were, when I saw them, a mass of brilliant 

On our first visit to Drumlanrig, among other 
guests in the large party we found assembled there, 
were Lord and Lady Dalmeny. 1 Lady Dalmeny was 
extremely handsome in those years, and, indeed, 

1 N<?e Lady Catherine Stanhope, daughter of fourth Lord Stanhope, 
mother of the present Lord Rosebery. She married, after her first 
husband's death, the late Duke of Cleveland, and died in 1901. 


preserved her beauty long, and her charm and talents 
to the last days of her life. She made all our expe- 
ditions in the beautiful neighbourhood of Drumlanrig 
so interesting by her intimate knowledge of the old 
border stories and legends, her skill as an artist, and 
her general cleverness. I also recollect Charles and 
Henry Greville being of that party, and their mother, 
Lady Charlotte Greville. The colonel commanding 
my husband's regiment, the Grenadier Guards, was 
also there. I cannot remember his name, but re- 
collect his being taxed with having a quarrel with 
Henry Greville, and being told that he would have 
to meet him in a duel. His reply to this was : 
" Good Lord ! I should as soon think of calling out 
my mother's maid." 

During the years 1851 and 1854 my father was 
commander-in-chief at the Nore. He began his 
naval career there, and was present on the Sans 
Pareil at the Mutiny of the Nore, as I have 
mentioned elsewhere, and it was his last command 
as an admiral. Naturally enough at dinner at the 
Admiralty House there were always naval officers 
present. The conversation frequently turned upon 
the deplorable state of our national defences. The 
fortifications at Sheerness were said to be not worth 
a straw. I recollect my father saying : " There is 
nothing to prevent half-a-dozen French steamers 
going up the river and burning what they please, 
and reaching London Bridge. I do not say that 


they would come safely back again, but I have not a 
doubt they might get there to-morrow. I am per- 
suaded that some day or other they will try to attack 
us on our own ground. I would not advise any one 
to suppose they will wait for a just ground of 
quarrel, or announce by preliminaries that they have 
quarrelled ; their best chance, and they know it, is 
by a sudden blow. It will be an awful thing, come 
when it may, but it is my firm belief that come it 
will. I only wish we may meet them in the Channel, 
but by the improved gunnery and various other 
scientific improvements such encounters must hence- 
forth be much more tremendous than they were 
heretofore. Supposing two first-rate ships to be 
engaged, in one quarter of an hour it would be all 
over with one or both of them. Such must be the 
effects of the broadsides of these days. The French 
have a fine fleet, well manned ; their officers, gener- 
ally speaking, are better trained and educated than 
ours ; I believe even that they know our own coast 
and its soundings better than we do ourselves. 
Some of their people have been detected making 
observations and sketches, which could have had 
but one object; and they have made many un- 
heeded. The successive Governments of this 
country have neglected, not to say discouraged, the 
service they ought to have fostered, and have not. 
dared to ask for funds to keep up its necessary 
establishments, and will repent too late. I am 


old enough to remember the threatened invasion 
many years ago, but the spirit is wanting now 
which then led almost every child to shoulder a 
musket" 1 

Captain Stafford said: "If they effect a landing 
in Ireland they would surely be joined by the larger 
body of the Roman Catholics. I wish," my father 
said, laughing, " if they land in England, they would 
march straight to Manchester and fall in with Mr. 
Cobden and his associate in the first instance. They 
are the people who have reduced us to our present 
straits, and would reduce us still lower if they could. 
The Queen has taken some degree of alarm about 
Osborne, and that certainly will not be a fit or safe 
place for her." 

Sheerness, Feb. 7. — The Rattlesnake under weigh 
this morning, loaded, my father thinks over-loaded, 
with provisions for the Arctic crews, and going 
to Behring Straits in search of Sir John Franklin, 
&c. The Admiral has not a hope of their being 

Our visits to Sheerness were never of long dura- 
tion, as my husband did not get long leave. In 
1852 he left the Guards. In the autumn of 1853 
Mrs. Greville Howard lent us Elford Hall, near Lich- 
field, for six months, and when the Crimean war 

1 My father would have modified his opinion had he lived to see 
the volunteer movements of last year when the South African war 
broke out, and the enthusiasm of all ranks to defend the empire. 


broke out, my husband was given the command of 
the 3rd Staffordshire Militia. 

Captain Whitby, on a previous occasion, com- 
manded H.M.S. Cerberus, frigate, in the gallant 
action in the Adriatic (181 1); also H.M.S. Leopard 
of fifty guns against the Chesapeake, American 
frigate. I shall have occasion to allude again 
in these pages to this distinguished officer's 

We saw a great deal in these years of Lord 
Alvanley, who was an old friend of my husband's, 
and our near neighbour in London. His witticisms 
were the most delightful, from being spontaneous 
and made without any effort. I recollect once 
being at a meet of hounds where Mr. Gunter, the 
famous confectioner, was riding. Mr. Gunter com- 
plained that his horse was very fidgetty and hot 
tempered, upon which Lord Alvanley replied, " Oh, 
ice him, Gunter, ice him ! " 

During all the earlier years of my married life, 
my husband's grandmother, Lady Mornington, was 
extremely kind to me — a kindness which lasted till 
her death. She was the Duke of Wellington's 
favourite sister-in-law. Her eldest daughter, Lady 
Mary Wellesley, my husband's mother, was a beau- 
tiful woman. Her two younger daughters married 
Lord Westmorland and Lord Fitz-Roy Somerset 
(afterwards created Lord Raglan). She had only 
one son. 


Lady Mornington lived to a very great age. She 
and Lady Clarendon, whom I have already men- 
tioned in these pages, were twin daughters of 
Admiral Forbes, of a family distinguished for good 
looks and brains. Admiral Forbes absolutely refused 
to sign the warrant for the death of Admiral Byng. 
The latter, as is well known, was accused of 
" showing the white feather," and pretending to 
be unaware of the vicinity of the French fleet 
when he should have given chase to it. There 
was a fog at the time, which Admiral Forbes was 
convinced prevented the French fleet from being 
seen by the ill-fated Admiral Byng, who was tried 
by a court-martial and shot. 

On each anniversary .of the execution the family 
of that unfortunate admiral used to pay a solemn 
visit to Lady Mornington, dressed in deep mourn- 
ing, as a testimony to her of their gratitude for 
Admiral Forbes's conduct. 

Lady Mornington was at Brussels at the time 
of the battle of Waterloo. She went there in order 
to be near her family, who were at the front with 
the Duke of Wellington, and especially to be with 
her daughter, Lady Fitz-Roy Somerset, whose hus- 
band lost an arm at Waterloo, and who was expect- 
ing her confinement. When the sound of the firing 
of Waterloo commenced, she took Lady Fitz-Roy 
into the park, hoping to distract her attention. 
They were sitting on a beech when a Frenchwoman 


said to them, "Mon Dieu, Mesdames, n'entendez vous 
pas le canon ? " 

Shortly afterwards the wounded began to arrive, 
and among them Lord Fitz-Koy Somerset. 

Lady Mornington told many interesting and 
characteristic anecdotes of the Duke of Wellington. 

As an instance of the confidence the Duke's 
presence inspired, she told me that when firing was 
heard in Brussels at the commencement of the 
battle of Waterloo, she went to wake her maid, 
a woman called Finlay. The woman merely sat 
up in her bed and said, " Is the Duke between us 
and the French army, my lady?" " Yes, Finlay." 
" Oh, then, my lady, I shall lie down and go to 
sleep again." This same old Finlay gave me, in 
1847, the page's dress my husband wore as a boy 
of twelve years old at George IV.'s coronation. 
The dress is at Levens Hall, and also a picture of 
him wearing it. Lady Mornington told me she 
took my husband to see George IV., who desired 
her to do so, and she particularly exhorted him to 
be good, touch nothing, and ask no questions. I 
think she said he was eight years old then. There 
was a very curious shield of beautiful workmanship 
on the wall over where the King sat. The boy forgot 
his grandmother's injunctions, and, after staring at 
the shield, said, " I wish, sir, you would take that 
down and let me look at it." The King was so 
amused, and so kind to children, that he did so. 


My husband was a very handsome boy, and at 
the banquet at George IV.'s coronation the King 
gave him a message to take to a lady at the end 
of Westminster Hall, in order to show his page off 
to his guests. 

My father wished that the bees which formed 
the clasp of Napoleon Bonaparte's cloak should 
be left to me. They are now at Levens. My 
uncle, Major Henry Percy, A.D.C. to the Duke, 
saw the cloak left by Bonaparte on a mound on the 
field of Waterloo. The cloak was too heavy to take, 
and my uncle cut off the clasp with the imperial 
bees, which clasp he gave my father. 

The Duke sent home the despatches with the 
news of the glorious victory by Henry Percy, 
who had no time to change the coat he wore 
at the Duke of Richmond's ball, and in which he 
fought at Waterloo. As a child of seven I saw this 
coat at No. 8 Portman Square, a large stain of blood 
on one shoulder of it. 

My uncle proceeded, in the fastest sailing-boat 
then procurable, from Antwerp to Dover, where he 
landed in the afternoon. He found that a rumour, 
not only of a battle but of a victory, had preceded 
him. Mv father told me Rothschild had a schooner 
lying off and on at Antwerp, with orders to proceed 
immediately with the news of the allied armies' 
defeat or victory, whichever it might be — news the 
knowledge of which was to be used for stockbroking 


purposes. My memory is vague about the details 
of this schooner. 

The confirmation of the report of victory was 
received with tremendous acclamation. The posting 
then on the Dover and London line was entirely in 
the hands of a Mr. Wright, master of the Ship Hotel 
at Dover, who instantly ordered an express to pro- 
cure horses at each stage to be ready for Major 
Percy, he providing a post-chaise with four of his 
best horses. It was found that the captured eagles 
my uncle carried could not be contained in the 
post-chaise. They were placed so that their heads 
appeared out of the front windows ; a better an- 
nouncement there could not have been of the 
glorious news, which was received with enthusiastic 
thankfulness everywhere. 

Major Percy drove straight to the Horse Guards. 
The Commander-in-Chief, the Duke of York, was 
dining out. He proceeded to Lord Castlereagh's 
and heard the same account at his door, and finding 
that he and the Duke of York were at the same 
dinner, given by a rich widow in St. James's Square, 
there he went, and heard that the Prince Regent 
was also at this party. He requested to be shown 
into the dining-room, which he entered with his 
despatches and eagles, covered with dust and all 
the marks of battle. The dessert was being placed 
on the table. At the same moment the Prince 
Regent commanded the ladies to leave the room, 


which they did. He put out his hand to the bearer 
of these glad tidings and said, "Welcome, Colonel 

" Go down on one knee," said the Duke of York, 
" and kiss hands for the step you have gained ! " 

Before the Duke of Wellington's despatch could 
be read, he was anxiously asked after many dis- 
tinguished officers, and had to answer "Dead" 
or "Severely wounded." The Prince burst into 
tears. 1 

Meantime Colonel Percy was sinking from fatigue, 
and begged to be allowed to go to his father's house 
in Portman Square. The crowds were so great 
he had difficulty in reaching it, and all night the 
house was besieged by multitudes of anxious in- 
quirers. He had no power to say more than that 
the victory was complete, and the loss in killed and 
wounded very heavy, and that, as far as he could, he 
would answer all questions next day. The agony of 
suspense and affliction he witnessed was so intense 
that, in his own words, he could only feel the awful 
price of the victory; the heart-rending grief he 
had to inflict made his ear deaf to the sounds of 
triumphant joy with which London resounded. 

In one instance he announced what proved not 
to be true. It was believed that Sir William 

1 Sir Herbert Maxwell mentions this incident in his life of the 
Duke of Wellington. I had previously published the account of it in 
Blackwood's Magazine (March 1899). 


Ponsonby was killed, and his name returned in the 
list as dead ; he had fallen covered with wounds, 
met with cruelty on one hand and kindness on 
another. The thrust of a spear had been given to 
end his life by one French soldier, another poured 
brandy from his own canteen down his throat and 
saved his life. The name of this soldier was asked 
when Sir William Ponsonby recovered and was able 
to join the allied armies at Paris. Every effort was 
made to discover him, but without success ; he had 
probably died after saving the life of an enemy. 
Colonel Percy was thought never quite to have 
recovered the fatigues of the Waterloo campaign ; 
he had, also, as Sir John Moore's aide-de-camp, 
been through the retreat of Corunna. He always 
wore a locket (now at Levens) with Sir John Moore's 
hair in it, given by Miss Moore to all her brother's 
aides-de-camp after he fell at Corunna. The locket 
was left to my father and after his death to me. 

As a child of three years old I was lifted on to 
my uncle Henry's bed in Portman Square. He was 
then a dying man, and I felt very frightened, when 
he kissed me, at his very white face and black hair. 
He gave me a necklace, which he put round my 
throat. This necklace, alas, was stolen from me 
at Portsmouth in 1846. 

The gloves which the Duke of Wellington wore 
at Waterloo are now at Levens, and lie beside the 
sword that Lord Nelson gave to my father. These 


gloves Lady Mornington took off his hands on his 
return from Brussels after the battle. She also gave 
my husband the pen, an old and well-worn quill, 
with which the Duke and the other signatories of 
the Capitulation of Paris signed their names to the 
Treaty of Capitulation on the entrance into the city 
of the allied armies. This pen, I regret to say, 
mysteriously disappeared from a house we had in 
Staffordshire, possibly "annexed" by a too keen 
collector of historical relics. As a souvenir of 
his services as aide-de-camp, and of taking home 
the despatches from Waterloo, the Duke pre- 
sented Henry Percy with a gold watch (made by 
Breguet), set with diamonds, which he had made in 
Paris. This watch is also in my son's possession at 

Paris, July 2jth, 18 15. — The Duke of Welling- 
ton said that when the account was brought to him 
at Brussels on the night of the 1 5th that the French 
had driven back the Prussians and advanced to Quatre 
Bras (thirty-six miles in one day), of which thirty 
were fought, he looked on the map and would not 
believe it possible. 

The Duke said : " Bonaparte was the most un- 
fortunate general who ever lived, for he lost more 
armies than any one else ever did — Egypt, Portugal, 
I do not know how many in Spain, Russia, &c, &c. 

"When the Commissioners came to me the day 
after they had proclaimed the ' Roi de Rome,' they 


wanted to proclaim in his place the Due d'Orleans, 
from a belief in which they were quite wrong, that 
the allies did not care about the old king." 

The Duke of Wellington, respecting the battle of 
Waterloo, at Paris, July 1815, said: "I have taken a 
good deal of pains with many of my battles, but I 
never took half the pains I did at Waterloo. 

"By God! there never was in the annals of the 
world such a battle ! 1 50,000 men hors de combat. 
Blucher lost 30 — I can account for 20,000. The 
French may fairly be reckoned at one hundred." 

Arthur Upton (Colonel Greville Howard's 
brother) asked him : " What would you have done, 
sir, if the Prussians had not come up 1 " 

The Duke of Wellington replied: "The Prus- 
sians were of the greatest use in the pursuit, but if 
they had not come up, what should we have done ? 
Why — we should have held our ground : that's what 
we should have done. 

" Our army was drawn up into a great many 
squares ; many of these were diminished to a 
quarter, and the cavalry was riding amongst them. I 
saw it was necessary to present a length of front to 
the enemy. I made them fall into line, four deep, and 
we completely drove them back. That manoeuvre 
won the battle ; it never was tried before." 

Henry Percy remarked to the Duke one day : " I 
thought, sir, you were taken when you got amongst 
the French." 


" No, I got away through the 95th. I got 
through the 95th two or three times that day." 

After the battle of Waterloo, when the Prussians 
were in full pursuit, they came up with the division 
of Guards, who had so heroically distinguished 
themselves. The Prussians instantly halted, formed, 
and played " God save the King," after which they 
proceeded in their pursuit. 

The following remarks by the Duke of Welling- 
ton on his tactics at the battle of Waterloo were 
taken down by Lord Hatherton in writing at the 
time of their delivery, and were by him communi- 
cated to my husband. 

On the 8th December 1825 the following 
persons were assembled at Teddesley : the Duke 
of Wellington, Mr. Richard and Lady Harriet Bagot, 
the Right Hon. Robert Peel, Mr. Croker, Mr. 
George Fortescue, Mr. and Mrs. Foster CunlifTe, 
Mr. Algernon Percy, Mr. and Mrs. G. Chetwode, 
Mr. Littleton (subsequently Lord Hatherton), and 
Mrs. Littleton. 

After dinner when we were talking of the cam- 
paign of Waterloo, Croker alluded to the criticisms 
of the French military writers, some of whom 
declared that the Duke had fought the battle in a 
position full of danger, as he had no practical 

The Duke said — "They failed in their attempt 


to put it to the test. The road to Brussels, however, 
was, every yard of it, practicable for such a purpose. 
I knew that every yard of the plain beyond the 
forest on each side of the Chaussee was open enough 
for infantry and cavalry and even for artillery, and 
very defensible. Had I retreated through it, could 
they have followed me? The Prussians were on 
their flank, and would have been in their rear. 

" The co-operation of the Prussians in the oper- 
tions which I undertook was part of my plan, and I 
was not deceived. But I never contemplated a 
retreat on Brussels. Had I been forced, I should 
have retreated by my right towards the coast, the 
shipping, and my resources. I had placed Hill 
where he could lend me important assistance in 
many contingencies that might have been. And 
again I ask, if I had retreated on my right, could 
Napoleon have ventured to follow me? The 
Prussians, already on his flank, would have been 
in his rear. But my plan was to keep my ground 
till the Prussians appeared and then to attack the 
French position — and I executed my plan." 

Lord Hatherton added — " As we left the dining- 
room, Croker, who had been in the Duke's company 
more than most men since the Duke's return to 
England, said to me, ' I never heard the Duke say so 
much on this subject before.' " 

Sir Peregrine Maitland told me that for the 


three days of the battle of Waterloo he had such a 
raging toothache that he never knew how he got 
into the wood in which the Guards lost so many 
officers and men, and that he really could not tell 
me anything about the battle of Waterloo ! 

He, Sir Peregrine Maitland, and his wife, Lady 
Sarah Lennox, ran away with each other, as the 
Duke and Duchess of Richmond would not allow 
the marriage, he being of no particular family and 
poor. The Duchess always spoke of that daughter 
as "Barrack Sal." They were both very handsome, 
and were my father's and our intimate friends. Sir 
Peregrine was Governor at the Cape during the 
latter part of the time that we were there, and 
succeeded my father's dearest friend, Sir George 

Lady Mornington told me that when she first 
saw the Duke at Brussels after the battle and con- 
gratulated him, he put his face between his hands 
to hide his tears and said, "Oh! do not con- 
gratulate me — I have lost all my dearest friends." 
Sir Herbert Maxwell's inference, in his Life of 
Wellington, that the Duke had no feeling, does not 
seem to be borne out by the experience of those 
who knew him best. 

When the Duke of Wellington was told that 
Alick Gordon was dead of his wounds he shed 

After pursuing the retreating army to Genappes 



the Duke of Wellington and Henry Percy re- 
turned to Waterloo. The Duke was very low and 
said, " I believe you are the only one of my aides- 
de-camp left." 

" But we ought, sir, to be very thankful that you 
are safe," said my uncle. 

" The finger of God was upon me all day — 
nothing else could have saved me." 

Charles Greville used to relate that when Talley- 
rand was returning from Congress, Monsieur le 
Due de Berry persuaded the King to part with him. 
At his first audience he perceived a great change in 
Louis' manner. This was again evident in another 
audience. Talleyrand demanded some explanation, 
and it was intimated to him that the King had with- 
drawn his confidence from him. Talleyrand went 
privately to Lord Wellington. The result was that 
Lord Wellington informed the King that the only 
condition on which he would make common cause 
with his interests was that he should continue 
Talleyrand in his office. 

Just before the King was obliged to quit Paris 
in 1815, he sent for Fouche and asked him to take 
the department of the Police. Fouchd told him 
it was too late, and frankly informed him of his 
reasons for thinking so. Blacas, who was present, 
twice interrupted him by saying, "M. Fouche', you 
forget that you are speaking to the King." Fouche, 
indignant at being thus interrupted, turned angrily 


round to Blacas, saying, " Monsieur Blacas, your 
impertinence compels me to inform the King that 
you were ten years in my pay as a spy upon him in 
England." The King broke up the conference and 
burst into tears. 

On Louis XVIII. 's second arrival in Paris, 
July 18 1 5, he would not receive anybody, because 
the Prussians bivouacked in the Place Carrousel, 
saying that he felt himself a prisoner in his own 

When the manufactory at Sevres was taken, a 
beautiful chocolate service of green Sevres porcelain 
was found ready packed. The Emperor Napoleon 
had ordered it to be made as a present from him 
to " Madame Mere." The different pieces of the 
service are adorned with hunting scenes in the park 
of Vincennes, and the figures depicted in these 
scenes are portraits of Napoleon and various generals 
belonging to his staff. 

This service was left to me by my mother-in-law, 
to whom it was given by the Duke of Wellington, 
and is now at Levens. 

General Maitland told us the enthusiasm of the 
fickle Parisians was great when the allied armies 
entered Paris after Waterloo ; and they made them- 
selves hoarse shouting, "Vive nos amis les ennemis!" 
1 Moitie singe — moitie tigre " is true of Parisian 
nature — at least, of their mob. 

The instances of bad taste on the staff of the 


Duke seem to have been many. The following 
happened at Paris in 1815. The first ball the Duke 
gave, after his entry into Paris, not suiting the feel- 
ing of the time, the Parisians refused to attend. 
The royal family notified their intention of coming. 
In the course of the evening, an officer of Monsieur's 
staff was sent to ask whether it was a full-dress ball, 
and how Monsieur was to come. 

" Tell him," said one of the pert A.D.C.'s, " that 
he may come if he likes sans culottes" which sally 
was received by shouts of laughter. None of the 
royal family came, which was hardly to be wondered 
at. — Charles Percy. 

My uncle Henry Percy told my father that in 
the house where Sir John Moore died mass was said 
all night, both before and after his death, by the 
Spanish priests. 

Lord Fitz-Roy Somerset told Lady Mornington 
that the Duke of Wellington slept during the battle 
of Talavera, after making every arrangement, worn 
out by fatigue. 

When La Bedoyere went to be shot, 19th August 
181 5, Lord Apsley was present, and said he appeared 
perfectly calm and undaunted, placed his hand on 
his heart, said a few words, advanced, gave the 
word, "Un, deux, trois — feu!" and fell motionless. 
About 1 50 people present ; no expression of pity, 
sorrow, or exultation. It was beyond the barriers 
de Grenelle. 


Bonaparte, in one of his conversations in Elba, 
speaking of Louis XVIII. , predicted that the system 
he pursued must fail; "for," said he, "II faut 
gouverner ce peuple avec une main de fer et des 
pattes de velours." — Seymour Bathurst. 

Copy of a Letter from Charles Percy to his 
Sister, Lady Susan Percy. 

" Peronne, 2nd July 1815. 

" Dearest Susan, — I could not spare a moment 
to write from Brussels, nor have I had any oppor- 
tunity since. I will give you a detailed account 
of my operations from my arrival until the present 
time. On Monday morning at 3 o'clock, after a 
very disagreeable passage in company with Lord 
Alvanley, we reached Ostend, where we were de- 
tained two hours. From there we pushed our 
journey, famished and still suffering from nausea, 
to Brussels, by Bruges, Ghent, &c, &c. We arrived 
about 5 o'clock. We dined with Lady Sidney 
Smith, and Henry pursued his course with des- 
patches to Lord Wellington, who was supposed to 
be at Compiegne, but I have heard nothing of him 

" I stayed two days at Brussels, which place I 
delight in, and recommend by all manner of means 
for Louisa (Lady Lovaine) to summer there. Saw 
Waterloo, but, alas ! the dead were all buried ; the 
ground was covered with blood, and looked like a 


field of crows, it was so covered with caps and 
helmets. The horror that those who stayed at 
Brussels suffered is indescribable. All the firing 
was heard distinctly, and as it receded or advanced 
their hopes and fears predominated. To add to 
their alarm, the Cumberland Hussars galloped into 
the town declaring it was all lost ! The Rumbolds 
and the Duke of Kichmond determined to remain. 
Every moment the dying and the wounded were 
brought into the town and laid in the Park, where 
the ladies dressed the less severe wounds, and 
administered every comfort and consolation in their 

"English and Belgians seem equally to have 
devoted themselves to the care of the troops. As 
far as I could ascertain, there were 10,000 wounded 
in Brussels. You probably have seen the returns 
long before this. I have not. Sir Sidney Smith 
saved 117 men, who were left mingled with the 
dead. He went in his carriage with wine, bread, 
and ice on purpose. One great inconvenience was 
the want of a sufficient number of surgeons. 

" But to return to 'my journal. Henry procured 
me a bed at Lord Wellington's. Lady Smith feasted 
me all day, so that I had none of the little incon- 
veniences which render life burthensome. Our 
party there consisted of Lady Smith and the Rum- 
bolds, the Duke of Richmond, Berkeley Paget, 
Lord G. Lennox, and Horace Seymour. I was so 


busy about horses, commissary, &c, that I saw 
nothing of Brussels. 

" I must confess that I felt some dread of setting 
out on my route to Paris all alone, neither the ser- 
vants or myself able to speak French ! However, I 
had a pass, an officer's, which ensured me a bed, and 
some eatables. But then the misery of that inde- 
scribable, unmanageable word and thing, ' a billet ' 
— how was I to manage for my breakfast, dinner, 
washing ? There was a load of anticipated affliction. 
The first day I rode to Mons. You know the road, 
therefore I shall make no guidish remarks ! All the 
churches, houses, &c, were ornamented with lilies 
and flags, &c. One would have thought that the 
people were enthusiastically attached to the Bour- 
bons ! But only a week before they appeared with 
equal enthusiasm as fierce Napoleonists. 

" You used always to fret me, and say when I 
was squeamishly delicate, ' If you were to travel, 
what would you do ? ' And I always answered that 
when I had no right to expect comfort and cleanli- 
ness, I should do without it as well as my neighbours. 
And I find I was quite right. My anticipations had 
so far exceeded the reality, that I was delighted with 
my room at Mons (which was by far the most 
wretched you can conceive), and I felt fearful that 
I should not have so good again. I dined at a 
traiteur's, and paid a boy to show me all the lions. 
The only one I saw was on the principle of the tea 


garden at Bayswater ; and in the centre was a stage 
where the good people waltzed, and, in my opinion, 
exquisitely ill. On my return mine host conveyed 
me to a cafe, where he smoked into my mouth, 
obliged me to drink beer and punch, panegyrised 
his wife, a scarecrow of sixty hung over with loose 
yellow skin, and told me she was esteemed very like 
an Englishwoman, so much so that all our country- 
men mistook her for one ! 

" The next day I proceeded from Mons to Beau- 
vais, and, after two hours' rest, to Gateau, where I 
was billeted with a pharmacien. From Cateau to 
Cotelet (two hours' rest), to Peronne, where I am 
writing to you, in the etude of a notaire ; he is quite 
a doat of an attorney, and everything comfortable 
and clean, like the best inn in England, with much 
more civility. In consequence, I have decided to 
give the horses a day's rest here. In three days I 
shall be at Paris, and from thence I will write the 
conclusion of Captain Percy's adventures on the 
staff of General Maitland. They tell me that the 
King and Lord Wellington are to enter that place 

"Nothing can be more nattering hitherto than 
the reception of the English. The Prussians are 
detested, and I believe with reason ; they pay the 
French in their own coin. Your affectionate brother, 

" Charles Percy." 


"Paris, Sth July 1815. 

" Dearest Susan, — I wrote to my father from 
Neuilly two days ago ; you will therefore be prepared 
for a continuance of my journal, dated Paris. 

" Lord Wellington decided to enter it yesterday. 
I believe none of the Parisians knew of it. I am 
sure none of his A.D.C.'s did ; they, good souls, are 
left in a state of edifying ignorance of all his measures, 
even those of least importance — so much so that 
when we quitted headquarters upon our several 
horses, not one person present except the Lord 
Paramount knew in the least how he was to enter 
it, and whether there was to be a review previously. 
The result was that he rode into Paris perfectly 
quietly, followed by his suite — no demonstration 
of any kind, nor were there twenty people of any 
kind assembled. His house is situated at the ex- 
tremity of the Champs Elysees and the Place Louis 
Quinze. Therefore, before any rumour could reach 
the inhabitants, he was safely housed. The tricolour 
flag continued to fly over the Tuileries, the Invalides, 
the Place Vendome, &c, and the Corps Legislatif 
continued their sitting under the shadow of that 
accursed ensign, as indifferently as if the town had 
not capitulated, and as if they were still masters of 
their own proceedings. 

" 20,000 Prussians marched immediately into the 
town, and the Boulevards were crowded to see the 
sight, but no feeling was discoverable. 


" To-day 20,000 more troops marched in, and 
the same proportion is to enter daily until the 
whole 80,000 are billeted upon the worthy citizens. 
In the meantime the English troops are encamped 
in the Bois de Boulogne, the Champs Elyse'es, and 
have possession of the Barrieres, but are not to 
take up their quarters at all within the walls of 

11 About three o'clock to-day the King made his 
entry into the town. Half-an-hour only before that 
event the tricolour made room for the legitimate 
standard of France, and white cockades appeared 
in the hats of the National Guards. There was no 
great crowd to witness the ceremony, which was very 
imposing from the number of troops which the King 
had assembled. ' Vive le Roi ! ' was not very 
enthusiastically repeated by the people, but no dis- 
satisfaction was in any way manifested. Louis did 
not appear in an open carriage as they expected, 
nor was he at all gracious to them. 

" I trust this augurs the restoration of the Sainte 
Guillotine. ' Let a scaffold be erected of fifty cubits, 
and hang the Marshals thereupon,' is the first order 
I should give, if I were the King. But I fear he is 
too full of the milk of human kindness. I have 
seen no sights. I am grievously disappointed in the 
wonder of wonders — but of that hereafter. 

" The bugles are now playing the downfall of 
Paris. Any other nation would be humbled, but 


humility is a virtue which Frenchmen do not 
possess by nature, and I fear are not competent to 

" How silly is the Triumphal Arch in the middle 
of the Place du Carrousel. 

" Good-night ; I am very sleepy, and not over 
well. Your affectionate, Charles Percy." 

At the Pavilion at Brighton, where I can never 
forget the kindness I experienced, I heard the Prince 
Regent relate the following anecdote of the King. 
It is very touching that the King's sense of duty was 
so strong that in his illness he felt, as King of 
England, his place was at the head of his army. 

His Majesty once, during a lucid interval, in- 
quired after some individual, and was answered by 
his medical attendant that he was with the army in 
France. "What army?" "Your Majesty's army, 
which is at present in France" (181 5). When this 
fact was made clear to the King he exclaimed, 
" Thank God ! But where is the King of England, 
who ought to be at its head ? " He then inquired 
under whose command it was. When the Duke 
of Wellington's name was mentioned he said, " No 
such person," and afterwards when they explained 
he was Sir Arthur Wellesley, the King went off into 
a paroxysm, saying, " It is a lie, he was shot yester- 
day in Hyde Park." — Charles Percy. 

The King at the settlement of the Regency was 


supposed to be convalescent. The Prince of Wales 
spoke to him about it. The King said, " Only, 
Prince of Wales, be careful that the whole thing 
was to be arranged correctly ; take care to have the 
Spencer livery — it has been quite wrong going on 
all this time with Brunswick livery." 

Once, during the King's illness, when the Prince 
of Wales went to see him, the King said : — 

"If I did not know that he was dead, I should 
think that the Prince of Wales was here, from the 
smell of perfumery." 

The Duke of Wellington as Sir Arthur Wellesley, 
before he went to India, was engaged to the Hon. 
Catherine Pakenham. She wrote to him, just before 
he left India, to tell him she was altered in appear- 
ance, and that now he was a distinguished man, 
she wrote to release him of his engagement. Sir 
Arthur's only answer was that he would meet her 
to fulfil his promised marriage at the church door. 
He was so poor when he went to India that Lady 
Mornington gave him his outfit, and even paid for 
his socks. 

Previous to the issue of the new coinage a 
good deal of conversation took place respecting 
the legend of Britt. Rex. I met Wellesley Pole, 
the Master of the Mint, at Houghton ; he told 
me that he had consulted Parr, and many other 
learned men, that the reduplication of the last 
letter in every instance in offices, &c, bore them 


out by analogy, though they had no precedent, 
applying to countries. I suggested the King of 
Spain and Indies, which had not been thought 
of or remembered. Sovereign was a name ap- 
plied to a coin, I believe, of similar value in 
the reign of Henry VII. — Lord Charles Percy 


25th February 181 7. — I was present last night 
at the debate in the House of Lords on the Habeas 
Corpus Suspension Act. I came in when Lord 
Wellesley was speaking. He spoke well; seeing 
Lord Aberdeen smile, he advised himself to say, " I 
should wish the noble lord to answer me with his 
arguments, and not with his insolence." (Order, 
order.) Lord Aberdeen said he would not stand 
such language from any one, nor should he manage 
his smiles according to the pleasure of the noble 

In adverting to something which had previously 
fallen from Lord Sidmouth respecting the quiet 
state of Ireland, Lord Wellesley said, "It is quiet, 
like gunpowder." — Charles Percy. 

My father told me that when Sir Charles Napier 
was returned as dead, after one of the battles of the 
Peninsular War, which of the battles it was I forget, 
his brother, Captain William Percy, R.N., undertook 
to break the news to his mother, Lady Sarah Napier, 
who was blind. Sir Charles was found alive, under 


a heap of wounded, and taken prisoner by the 
French, but not heard of for a year. My father 
conveyed the news to England of his being alive, 
and went to Lady Sarah's house to tell her. She 
heard my father's voice in a room where he was 
speaking to her daughters, and said when asked 
to see Captain Percy, " No, no, I will not see 
Captain Percy. He has only come to tell me of 
the death of another son." Her daughters told 
her it was Captain Josceline Percy who had come 
to break very good news to her. My father found 
them all in very deep mourning, and it was most 
difficult to convince Lady Sarah that her son 
Charles was really alive. She was the beautiful 
Lady Sarah Lennox, daughter of Charles, second 
Duke of Richmond, whom George III. was so much 
in love with and wished he could marry. She 
married first Sir Thomas Bunbury, and secondly, in 
1864, Hon. George Napier. She was the mother of 
Sir William the historian, Sir George Napier, and 
Sir Charles Napier, the hero of Scinde, all dis- 
tinguished soldiers, who rarely went into action 
without being wounded. Lady Sarah Napier went 
quite blind. She mistook my father's voice for my 
uncle, William Percy's. They were much alike in 
their voices and manner of speaking. 

Sir George Napier was one of my father's 
greatest friends. He was Governor of the Cape 
of Good Hope when we first went there in 1842. 


He lost an arm in the Peninsular War, I think, and 
used to tell me delightful stories that I wish I had 
written down, about the Peninsular War, &c. 

He told me that when as a lad he joined " the 
old 52nd Regiment," he wore his hair in long curls 
down his back, that he was kept more or less drunk 
for the first fortnight by the regiment, and for that 
fortnight he hated the army, till he got over this 
dreadful " breaking in " of a youngster. 

Lady Ashburnham {nee Lady Charlotte Percy) 
was a great friend of the Princess Sophia, and 
of the Duchess of Gloucester. She married Lord 
St. Asaph, eldest son of Lord Ashburnham, who was 
George III.'s godson. I used often to go with her 
to visit these princesses. At her first ball, Queen 
Charlotte introduced Lord St. Asaph to my aunt, 
and she danced her first dance with him. I believe 
he was older than her father by a year or two, but 
very good-looking and witty. She was very beauti- 
ful. The Duchess of Gloucester was most kind to 
me and my husband. She used to honour us with 
visits at our little house in London, 5 Eaton Place, 
South, and when we first took it insisted upon 
seeing every hole and corner in it. I thought it 
very kind of one accustomed only to royal palaces 
taking so much interest in our modest establish- 
ment. She was a most delightful person, with such 
pretty, gracious, and at the same time dignified 



Blithfield and the Bagots — Bagot's Park — John Sneyd — Lady Wilmot 
Horton — A ghost story — A case of second sight — The " Tracts for 
the Times " — Mr. Bennett — St. Barnabas, Pimlico — Mrs. Greville 
Howard — Levens — A description of Princess Charlotte's marriage 
and funeral — Lady Derby — The Chartist Riots. 

I shall never forget the impression made upon me 
by my first visit to Blithfield, Lord Bagot's fine old 
place in Staffordshire. As I am not a Bagot by 
birth, I may be forgiven, perhaps, for attempting to 
record those impressions ; the more so as they were 
formed before I had any idea that I should marry 
into the family and become a Bagot myself. 

My first acquaintance with Blithfield was on the 
last night of the year 1839. 

My parents and myself were staying with the 
Levetts of Milford, about five or six miles from 
Blithfield, and drove over to dance the New Year 
in at a ball given by Lord Bagot to his tenantry, 
to which any of his neighbours who cared to do 
so were cordially invited to come, and bring their 
guests with them. It was a beautiful sight, and 
even after the lapse of sixty years the scene remains 

vividly before my eyes. The Bagots were all so 



handsome — famous in those days for their good 
looks — the old lord so high bred and courteous in his 
manners ; and his brother, the Bishop of Oxford, as 
he then was, and the Bishop's wife, Lady Harriet, 
and their family, so strikingly good-looking. 

All the country houses in the neighbourhood of 
Blithfield were filled and brought their guests to the 
ball, besides the tenants for whom it was given, and 
servants and retainers of all sorts. As the clock 
struck twelve the dancing ceased, and in came the 
head forester, Henry Turner, with the magnificent 
bloodhounds from Bagot's Park. Every one admired 
the dogs, and shook hands with every one else and 
their partners. Mine was a Grenadier, my future 
husband, Captain Charles Bagot. One dance more, 
and the "quality" went to supper, and left the old 
hall to the servants, tenants, &c. ; and they kept the 
ball up till morning. There was an indescribable 
charm in old Blithfield as I knew it first at the age 
of eighteen. A sort of feudal attachment to it of all 
ranks ; so respected by the county, and all branches 
of the family received there with such hospitality, 
kindness, and old-world courtesy by the dear old 
lord, who at eighty welcomed every one on their 
arrival, and took them to their carriage when they 
left, after visits of weeks or more. 

The drive from Blithfield through Bagot's Woods 
to Bagot's Park struck me, and all new comers, 
immensely. Lilies-of-the-valley grow wild in these 


woods, and flowers of many kinds. Bagot's Park is 
four miles from Blithfield. The Bagots held the land 
undisturbed at the coming of William the Conqueror, 
and the family has held them ever since. The 
residence of the family was at Bagot's Bromley 
before they migrated to Blithfield, which latter 
estate came to them by the marriage, in Henry II.'s 
reign, of the then head of the house with the heiress 
of the Blithfields. The great features of Bagot's 
Park are the oaks and a herd of wild goats. The 
" Beggar's " oak, mentioned in Domesday Book, is 
still a mighty tree ; the girth of its trunk so large 
that a carriage and four horses are almost concealed 
from view when drawn up behind it. The "King's" 
and the "Venison" oaks are also enormous trees, 
and, could they speak, would tell strange tales of 
centuries long passed. 

My son Richard has, under the names of 
"Abbotsbury" and "Redman's Cross," described 
Blithfield and Bagot's Park in one of his novels- — 
" Casting of Nets." 

The great affection the Bagots had for Blithfield, 
and the kind of feudal hospitality kept up there in 
old days, no one belonging even by marriage to the 
family could ever forget. 

My husband was extremely attached to the 
memory of his cousin the Rev. John Sneyd, Rector 
of Elford, who, with Lord Lyttelton, had been his 
guardian during his father's foreign embassies. 


Elford Rectory and Blithfield were his homes in his 
earlier years. John Sneyd was a great friend of the 
Duke of Dorset, of Canning, Charles Ellis, Sir Charles 
Bagot, and all the writers of the Anti-Jacobin, and 
they all visited Elford Rectory frequently, and often 
wrote! their articles there. Canning was in regular 
correspondence, and a constant guest in the retired 
Rectory of Elford ; Mr. Sneyd was succeeded 
as Rector by Francis E. Paget, son of Sir Edward 
Paget and the Hon. Miss Bagot, a nephew of Lord 
Anglesey of Waterloo celebrity. 

I once asked Lady Wilmot Horton, of whom 
Lord Byron wrote the sonnet, " She walks in beauty 
like the night," &c, who was the person she would 
prefer to call back to this world as the most 
agreeable member of it she had known in her life. 
She replied, without hesitation, "John Sneyd." 
Lady Wilmot Horton was the heiress of Catton Hall, 
near Tamworth, and married Sir Robert Horton. 
She had lived with all the wits of her day, was 
beautiful, and as good and as lovable as any one 
could be. 

After visits to Teddesley, Blithfield, and Guy's 
Cliff, we went to Levens Hall, Westmorland, where 
we found Lady Harriet Bentinck, Cavendishes, and 
Howards of Greystock, Finches, &c, all cousins of 
its then owner, Mrs. G. Howard, granddaughter to 
Lady Andover, Mrs. Delany's friend and correspon- 
dent ; also Colonel Greville Howard's nephews, 


Henry, George, Lord Templetown, and Arthur 
Upton — then young men. The house was full of 
people who remained for weeks, not the short 
visits of three nights in vogue now. 

Henry Upton had a curious experience in Por- 
tugal, where he was then with his regiment. He 
and a friend were sitting talking in an anteroom 
to the messroom, when they saw a friend of theirs, 
whose name I forget, and whom they knew to 
be in England, pass through the room to another 
from which there was no outlet. He was in his 
shirt-sleeves — no waistcoat or coat — trousers and 
shirt only. The shirt, they noticed, was white, 
with a blue check. They were so surprised that 
they followed him, and found no one. They ques- 
tioned the sentry, who declared that no such person 
had passed into the barracks or out of them. They 
looked at their watches, and Henry Upton wrote to 
his brother, George Upton, who was in London, 

to go to 's lodgings and find out what he was 

doing on that date and hour. George Upton went, 
but found their friend had died, but not on the day 
Henry Upton and his friend had seen him. Henry 
Upton wrote to George again to put the landlady 
on oath as to the date and hour of the officer's death, 
and to ask if he died in a white shirt. After much 
demur and evasion she said, " Well, sir, if you will 
not betray me, he did not die on the day I told 
you, but on the day and hour you mention. He 


did not die in his own white shirt ; I had to send 
all his linen that morning to the laundress, and put 
one of my husband's shirts on him, a blue check 
shirt. The date of his death was falsified on account 
of his pension, which was almost all his sisters had 
to look to for income.' He died on the day and 
hour Henry Upton and his friend saw him pass 
through the anteroom to their mess in Portugal. 1 

This story was told me by Colonel the Hon. 
George Upton, afterwards General Lord Temple- 
town ; his eldest brother, Henry, could not bear 
to speak on the subject, and when I asked him 
referred me to his brother George. 

In 1847 almost the pleasantest things were Mr. 
Rogers the poet's breakfasts at ten and eleven 
o'clock. My husband and I were frequently invited, 
and met all the literary men and scientists of the 
day. The great men were invariably simple, and 
so kind to the ignorant ; the smaller lights, conceited 
and pompous. Rogers himself was very cynical, 
and looked as if he had been buried alive and dug 
up. He had great likes for some people and aver- 
sions from others, and in the latter case could say 
very disagreeable things with a civil manner and 
cold smile. 

At Mr. Rogers' breakfasts were often Sir David 

1 Mr. Augustus Hare has published a somewhat different version of 
this story in his autobiography ; he probably did not hear it at first 
hand as I did. — S. L. B. 


Brewster, Sir Humphry and Lady Davy, and 
Macaulay the historian. The latter was a great 
talker; a "few brilliant flashes of silence," as was 
so truly said of him by Sydney Smith, intermixed 
with his conversation, would have made him a more 
agreeable one. His memory was painfully good, and 
he poured forth information like a stream of water 
that could never be exhausted. Consequently, his 
brilliant writings are more agreeable than his flood 
of conversation could be. 

There were a great number of veiy beautiful 
debutantes from 1840 to 1850, and young married 
women. The handsome sisters of Sydney Herbert ; 
Lady Fanny Cooper, afterwards Lady Jocelyn ; 
Miss Lane Fox, who died young ; Lady Wilhelmina 
Stanhope, late Duchess of Cleveland; Lady Canning, 
Lady Waterford, and many more. It seems to me 
that before bicycling, and when complexions in 
youth were taken care of, the young women were 
much more beautiful. They had no hard lines about 
the mouth, and their beautiful skins and complexions 
were preserved by the cottage straw bonnets of the 
early Victorian period. Then came in " uglies," 
which I thought a torture, put over the straw poke 
bonnet to protect eyes and complexion from the sun. 
When the governess was out of sight I usually tied 
my " ugly " round my waist. Gloves were sewn on 
with tapes to the gingham sleeves of girls' frocks to 
keep their hands white in the country. Girls rode 


walked, danced, but were allowed to play no athletic 
games, and few fathers allowed their daughters to 
ride to hounds, only to the meet. In 1840 no sitting 
out at balls with partners was heard of — a girl's 
partner, after the dance was over, took her back to 
her chaperone with a bow to the latter. 

I recollect a curious story of second sight told to 
me by William, second Lord Bagot, when a very old 
man. As far as I can remember, I will try and 
write it in Lord Bagot's own words. It was related 
to him as a special favour by Dr. Kirkland, who had 
the vision, very many years ago, at the time of his 
attendance at Blithfield during an illness of Lord 
Bagot, the grandfather of the present lord. " I 
must preface the story," Lord Bagot said, " by- 
observing that Dr. Kirkland bore a high character 
for veracity as well as for skill in his profession. 
On the 1 8th January 1760, Mr. Kirkland, surgeon, 
of Ashby-de-la-Zouch, went with a friend to a 
meeting of gentlemen at a neighbouring village, 
where there was a bowling-green. After an early 
dinner, and the sports of the day were over, Dr. 
Kirkland and his friend set off on horseback to 
return to Ashby-de-la-Zouch. When they were 
about half-way home, Dr. Kirkland got off his horse 
to give it some water ; he lagged behind his com- 
panion, and said he felt in a sort of trance. Suddenly 
he was roused by a magnificent funeral procession, 
which appeared to pass by him very quickly. There 


was a hearse drawn by six horses, adorned by 
coronets, and bearing the arms of the house of 
Shirley, attended by mourners on horseback. Dr. 
Kirkland mounted, put spurs to his horse, and rode 
after and joined his companion. ' Did you see it ? 
Which way has it gone ? ' he exclaimed, when he 
had overtaken his friend. To his surprise he found 
that the latter had seen nothing of the sort, and 
insisted that no funeral cortege had passed that 
way. They returned to Ashby, and were sitting 
down to supper, when an express arrived to fetch 
Dr. Kirkland to Staunton Harold with the news 
that Lord Ferrers had shot Mr. Johnstone, his 
steward. The melancholy termination of the story 
is too well known. Lord Ferrers was tried for the 
murder and hanged ; but I may add, as corrobora- 
tion of this singular instance of second sight, that 
the fatal shot was ascertained to have been fired at 
the exact time when Mr. Kirkland saw what had 
been related. The murder was on Friday, the 18th 
of January 1760, about 4 P.M." 

Talking of supernatural appearances, the follow- 
ing letter, sent to me by the late Eev. Francis 
E. Paget, Eector of Elford, from Elford. 

" In the house in which these pages are written, 
a tall and wide staircase window, with a southern 
aspect, throws a strong side light on the entrance 
into the chief living room, which stands at the end 
of a passage running nearly the length of the house. 


It was after midday in mid-winter, many years since, 
that the writer left his study, which opens into the 
passage just mentioned, on his way to his early 
dinner. The day was rather foggy, but there was no 
density of vapour, yet the door at the end of the pas- 
sage seemed obscured by mist ; as he advanced, the 
mist (so to call it) gathered into one spot, deepened, 
and formed itself into the outline of a human figure, 
the head and shoulders becoming more and more 
distinct, while the rest of the body seemed enveloped 
in a gauzy cloak, like a vestment of many folds, 
reaching downwards so as to hide the feet, and from 
its width as it rested on the flagged passage giving 
a pyramidal outline. The full light of the window 
fell on this object, which was so thin and tenuous 
in its consistency that the light on the panels of a 
highly- varnished door were visible through the lower 
part of the dress. It was altogether colourless — a 
statue carved in mist. The writer was so startled 
that he is uncertain whether he moved forward or 
stood still. He was rather astonished than terrified, 
for his first notion was that he was witnessing some 
hitherto unnoticed effect of light and shade. He 
had no thought of anything supernatural till, as he 
gazed, the head was turned towards him, and he at 
once recognised the features of a very dear friend. 
The expression of his countenance was that of holy, 
peaceful repose, and the gentle, kindly aspect which 
it wore in daily life was intensified (so the writer, 


in recalling the sight, has ever since felt) into a 
parting glance of deep affection ; and then, in an 
instant, all passed away. The writer can only com- 
pare the manner of the evanescence to the way in 
which a jet of steam is dissipated on exposure to 
cold air. Hardly, till then, did he realise that he 
had been brought into close communion with the 
supernatural. The result was great awe, but no 
terror; so that, instead of retreating to his study, 
he went forward and opened the door, close to 
which the apparition had stood. Of course, he 
could not doubt the import of what he had seen, 
and the morrow or the next day's post brought the 
tidings that his friend had tranquilly passed out 
of this world at the time he was seen by the writer. 
It must be stated that it was a sudden summons, 
that the writer had heard nothing of him for some 
weeks previously, and that nothing had brought him 
to his thoughts on the day of his decease. The 
writer never crosses the spot where the figure stood 
but imagination reproduces the scene, but it has no 
element of pain and fear. 
"Elford Rectory, 1877." 

On my first visit, in 1847, to Ashtead Park, 
Epsom, the Hon. Mrs. Greville Howard's, every one 
was talking of the " Tracts for the Times." They 
were spoken of as rank Popery, and " those views " 
alluded to with horror by some under their breath, 
and with enthusiastic admiration by others. 


I read them at Ashtead, out of curiosity about 
11 those views," during a time I was there alone, 
my husband being in command of his battalion at 
Chichester. The result was I was quite converted 
to " those views," andbecame acquainted with Arch- 
deacon Manning, Dr. Pusey, Mr. Richards, &c. We 
were at the dedication of " St. Barnabas," Pimlico. 
Henry and Robert Wilberforce and Archdeacon 
Manning preached their last sermons there in the 
English Church. 

Mr. Bennett, after doing a great work at St. 
Barnabas amongst the poor, and having great in- 
fluence for good, especially with men of all classes, 
resigned. For the last Sundays of his ministry at 
St. Barnabas, mobs in omnibuses used to come down 
to interrupt the service and shout " No Popery ! " 
On one, the last Sunday, I recollect Mr. De Gex, one 
of the curates, was chanting the Litany, and the mob 
forced their way up to the fald stool in the middle 
aisle of the church. Mr. De Gex's voice never 
faltered, and though they pressed behind him he 
paid no sort of attention. My husband and Sir John 
Harington, and others, were close to the pulpit to 
protect the clergy if necessary, especially as the 
mob, or rather its leaders, declared they meant to 
force their way up to the altar and find " under it 
the stone image of the Virgin Mary, 1 worshipped 
secretly by the congregation !" Mr. Bennett's sermon 

1 There was no statue of the Virgin Mary in the church. 


that morning was most striking. Most quietly he 
told the mob, stopping in the sermon to do it, that 
they would only reach the altar over his dead body ; 
but he then paused and entreated them to stop and 
recollect their thoughts and actions were then being 
recorded by the xingel, and implored them so to act 
as they would wish to have done on their dying day. 
The calm courage, and the quiet of his manner, 
words, and look, impressed them, and they quietly 
withdrew, and there was no further interruption to 
the service. 

After Mr. Bennett's last service at St. Barnabas 
of evensong, the scene was very affecting, the clergy 
and choir walking down the aisle to the west door 
chanting the psalm " By the waters of Babylon," to 
a Gregorian chant. The congregation were much 
overcome, and one poor woman fainted. Mr. Bennett 
was greatly beloved by the poor — he would sit up 
with a poor parishioner all night if a nurse could 
not be afforded. His work was well carried on by 
his successor, the Rev. James Skinner, though he 
had not Mr. Bennett's personal and almost magnetic 
influence over men. 

Mr. Bennett, in a letter to the Rev. F. E. Paget 
of Elford, his friend, dated January 3, 1851, speaking 
of his leaving St. Barnabas, writes : " Your cousin, 
Colonel Charles Bagot, has behaved like a truly 
Christian soldier. He has been one of my right 
hand defenders. So suddenly raised up too, for I 


never knew or saw him before this. How God raises 
up friends just as we require them." 

Mrs. Greville Howard, whom I have mentioned 
above, was a first cousin of my husband's father, Sir 
Charles Bagot. 

She was the only child and heiress of the Hon. 
Richard Bagot and Frances Howard, Lady Anclover's 
daughter and heiress of the estates of the Suffolk 
and Berkshire Howards. 

Richard Bagot took the name of Howard on his 
marriage. His wife's only brother, Lord Andover, 
was killed as a young man at Elford, by his horse 
running away with him, and his head being struck 
against a tree. Hence, at his mother's death, the 
estates of Elford, Ashtead Park near Epsom, Castle 
Rising in Norfolk, and Levens Hall in Westmor- 
land, passed to his sister. At the death of Richard 
Bagot and his wife all these properties went to their 
only surviving child, Mary, who married Colonel 
Greville Upton, a brother of Lord Templetown. 
Greville Upton also took the name of Howard. 
They had no children, and their beautiful Westmor- 
land property, Levens, eventually passed by entail to 
my eldest son, Josceline, my husband not living to 
succeed to it. 

No one who had once known Mrs. Greville 
Howard could ever forget her. There is nobody 
left like her now ; it is an extinct type in England. 
Though she was a grande dame of the past, she 


nevertheless went with her day. All young people 
delighted in her, and found her a most sympa- 
thetic and interesting companion. She had had 
an excellent education, and had a man's under- 
standing with a woman's tenderness, and the play- 
fulness and simplicity of a child. Yet she was 
fine mouche as well, seeing through every one, and 
possessed of a great sense of humour. She was a 
good linguist, and an excellent water-colour artist, 
being one of De Wint's best pupils. 

The last of her race, with all its simplicity and 
high breeding, she was far too much of a gentle- 
woman to understand finery or airs of any sort, yet 
nobody could have taken a liberty with her. 

There is a picture of her in her youth, I believe 
at Castle Upton, and one of her as an old woman, 
painted by Weigall, which hangs on the staircase 
at Levens. 

Levens was her favourite place. When there were 
many guests there she always dined in the old oak- 
panelled Hall, lighted by wax candles in brass 
sconces, and very picturesque she looked in her black 
dress, with her white face and snowy hair, and a large 
bouquet, arranged as a breast-knot, composed of 
old-fashioned flowers. She was never without these, 
sweet-smelling clove-carnations, cabbage roses, balm 
of Gilead, jessamine, &c, of all which old-world 
flowers the Levens gardens were and are full. 

Two bouquets a day were a part of her toilette, 


and the old he ad- gardener at Levens, a Scotchman 
named Forbes, used to take the greatest pride in 
arranging these nosegays, and in the beautiful 
gardens under his charge. 

Levens, with its clipped yews and quaint grounds, 
its perfect old Tudor house and lovely park and river 
scenery, has become too well known of recent years, 
through pictures in illustrated papers and works on 
topiary gardening, to make it necessary for me to 
describe it here. It is sufficient to say that its 
present owners have the same affection and care for 
it as its past proprietors, and that, for the first time 
for more than two hundred years, a direct male heir, 
my only grandson, is growing to boyhood in the old 
place ; for which, please God, he will one day have 
the same love as his predecessors. 

As an instance of the quaint formality of the 
times, Mrs. Greville Howard told me that after 
playing all day with her cousins, Lord Bagot's 
daughters, in London, a maid came to fetch her 
back to her aunt, Lady Suffolk's house. 

She had to make a low curtsey to her cousins, 
and to say, " Ladies, I quit you with regret, though 
about to rejoin my grandmother." 

What, I wonder, would be thought in these days 
at a child's party of the twentieth century, of such a 
leave-taking from a little girl of twelve addressed to 
others of her own age ? 

I extract the following account of Princess 


Charlotte's death and funeral from Lord Charles 
Percy's journal, dated May 8th, 1816 : — 

" On Thursday, May 2nd, at six I received an 
order from Lord Hertford to command my attend- 
ance at Carlton House to be present at the marriage 
of H.R.H. the Princess Charlotte Augusta with the 
Prince of Coburg at eight, or between eight and 
nine. Accordingly, at half-past eight, I reached 
Carlton House ; Pall Mall was pretty full of people, 
a guard of honour in the courtyard, &c. I was first 
conducted through the great hall into one of the 
apartments in which were the foreigners, grand 
officers, &c. In a few minutes Princess Charlotte's 
old and new establishments were ordered into the 
room where the Queen's attendants were. After 
waiting about five minutes loud cheering announced 
the arrival of Prince Leopold, and in a quarter of an 
hour we moved forward across the great hall, to be 
present at the ceremony. The Queen, Princesses 
Augusta, Elizabeth, Mary and Sophia of Gloucester 
were led out into the room appropriated for the 

" There was of course considerable crowding after 
them. When I got into the ball-room I got round 
behind the Queen and Royal Family. The Queen 
sat on a sofa, on the left of the altar, the Princesses 
in a row on her right. Opposite were placed the 
Dukes of York, Clarence, and Kent. At the end 
of the altar, on the right hand side, stood the 


Archbishop of Canterbury, and behind him the 
Archbishop of York ; at the other end of the altar 
the Bishop of London. The altar itself was covered 
with crimson velvet, with Prayer-books, &c, upon 
it ; two large gold candlesticks, some pieces of gold 
plate ; behind it was another erection of nearly the 
same size and shape, covered with crimson velvet 
and loaded with gold plate, candlesticks, &c, &c. 

" The company stood in an elongated semi-circle 
the whole length of the room, the right and left horn 
of the semicircle converging to the ends of the altar, 
about three deep, the foreigners chiefly in front. 
The Prince Regent stood before the altar a little on 
the right hand. 

" When everybody was settled in their places 
the Lord Chamberlain returned to the closet and 
brought forward Prince Leopold, dressed as a full 
general. He walked up to the altar, bowed to the 
Prince, Queen and Royal Family, and looked a little 
distressed. The Lord Chamberlain then returned for 
Princess Charlotte ; every eye was towards the door 
in silence. She came forward neither looking to the 
right nor to the left, in a white silver tissue dress 
with diamonds round her head, and no feathers. 
The Prince Regent led her up to the altar, and 
pressed her hand affectionately. She betrayed no 
other emotion than blushing deeply. The Arch- 
bishop commenced the service, which he read very 
distinctly, though somewhat tremulously, and the 



Princess Charlotte was very attentive, repeating the 
prayers to herself after him. When he addressed 
himself to Prince Leopold, ' Will yon take this 
woman, Charlotte, for your wedded wife ? ' the 
Prince answered in a low tone, ' I will.' When he 
addressed Princess Charlotte a similar question, she 
answered, ' I will,' very decidedly, and in rather 
too loud a voice. She looked extremely handsome, 
and her manner was resolute and dignified, without 
being bold. In her repetitions after the Archbishop 
she was particularly audible, which he, Prince 
Leopold, was not. 

"Immediately upon the conclusion of the cere- 
mony she threw herself upon her knees, seized the 
Prince Eegent's hand and kissed it with a strong 
appearance of gratitude and affection. He in re- 
turn kissed her on her forehead and raised her up. 
She then kissed the Queen's hand, and then the 
Princesses on the cheek, the Duchess of York, and 
Princess Sophia. She kissed Princess Mary fre- 
quently and said, ' You are a dear, good creature, 
and I love you very much.' 

"The ladies then came up to congratulate her. 
She shook hands with them very cordially and 
said, 'Did I not behave well — you heard my 
answers 1 ' 

" The signatures then took place. The Queen, 
Princesses, Princes, grand officers of state, &c. &c. 
When this was over, which was a rather tedious 


business, the Queen and Royal Family went into 
the closet, where the Princess Charlotte presented 
me to the Queen, and I kissed hands. We were 
then dismissed from the closet ; Prince Leopold 
went with his attendants to undress, and Princess 
Charlotte retired for the same purpose. They set 
off from the back of the house through the parks 
in their travelling chariot and four grey horses for 

" I ought to have been there to hand H.R.H. into 
the carriage, but I did not know my duty, and was 
absent. I have since heard that they got down to 
Oatlands in an hour and twenty minutes. Their 
house in London is ordered to be in readiness for 
to-morrow, the 9th. The crowds in the Park des- 
cried them and cheered. The Park and Tower guns 
also fired. When they were off a circle was made, 
and the Queen went round with the Prince Regent. 
She then played at cards. The Princesses sat in 
different rooms, and fruit, ices, tea, and bride-cake 
were liberally dispensed. About one o'clock the 
Royal Family returned to Buckingham House. 
The Prince kept some of the ministers and house- 
hold to supper. The whole ceremony was very 
impressive and splendid. 

"November 6, 1817, was a heavy day to these 
kingdoms. Princess Charlotte died at Claremont 
at two o'clock in the morning, after being delivered 
of a still-born male child at nine the previous night, 


and having got through her very long labour favour- 
ably. The calamity was first announced to Lord 
Bathurst and the Duke of York, who were the two 
individuals nearest Claremont. Lord Bathurst met 
the Duke of York at York House, and both pro- 
ceeded to Carlton House to send off a message to 
the Prince. When they arrived there, they found 
the Prince had already arrived, and was lying 
down. The Prince had passed the express on the 
road, and on his arrival at Carlton House found 
no tidings from Claremont. He sent to the Home 
Department, and there got the last bulletin of 
her delivery, and that she was going on extremely 

" Bloomfield was immediately summoned, and 
was desired to call the Regent, and communicate 
the deplorable event. This he refused, saying 
' he thought it would kill him.' 

" The Duke of York then desired he would go in 
to the Prince and announce his and Lord Bathurst' s 
arrival from Claremont, intending thereby to alarm 
him, and in some measure to break the intelligence 
to him. It unhappily had no such effect, and when 
they entered the room the Prince said, 'It is a sad 
disappointment to me and the country ; but, thank 
God, my daughter is safe and doing remarkably 
well.' A long pause succeeded, and Lord Bathurst 
said, ' Sir, I am sorry to say our news is bad.' 
' What is it ? Tell me instantly, I command you. 


the whole extent of my misfortune.' Then they 
announced the death. The Prince remained ten 
minutes aghast and speechless, with his two hands 
pressed against his head. He then rose, held out 
his hand to the Duke of York, could not support 
himself, fell into his arms and wept bitterly. This 
relieved him. Lord Bathurst and the Duke of York 
then went to Claremont and found Prince Leopold 
as composed as he could be in his broken-hearted 
state. This calamity has caused the deepest and 
most universal grief, and united the sorrow of a 
general loss with the sympathy of a private 

" This account from Lord Bathurst (8th Novem- 
ber 18 1 3). When Sir Richard Croft said to Princess 
Charlotte that the child was still-born, she answered, 
' I am satisfied. God's will be done.' 

" The Prince Regent sent word to Lady Emily 
Murray that if she felt herself unwilling or un- 
equal to attend the funeral of Princess Charlotte, 
either from ill-health or the recent loss of her 
father, he begged she would not think of doing 
so — one out of a thousand instances of his kind- 
ness, when he was himself in the deepest grief 
and distress. 

" The Prince of Coburg will not allow anything 
that was Princess Charlotte's to be touched. He 
follows the tracks of the wheels of the carriage in 
which she last went out with him, and appears 


perfectly overwhelmed with his calamity. He was 
much shocked at her embalmment, which was unex- 
pected, and having got admission into the room 
with the coffin, was found on his knees beside it 
almost senseless. 

" 14th November 1816. — Mrs. A. Stanhope told 
Ralph Sneyd that when it was notified to the Queen 
that Princess Charlotte intended to be confined at 
Claremont, the Queen wrote to her to recommend her 
to change her determination, and offered to lend her 
Buckingham House, as she heard Princess Charlotte 
thought Camelfort House inconvenient. This was 
refused. The Queen next wrote that she should 
take a house at Esher that she might be near her. 
This was declined, and it was Princess Charlotte's 
own choice to have nobody with her. 

" igth November 181 5. — Before Princess Char- 
lotte's accouchement her size was enormous — 
monstrous ! She never would see any one but Sir 
R. Crofts, M.D. The Queen was very anxious she 
should see some other medical man, saying, ' I 
never saw any woman so large with a first child ! ' 

"I went yesterday, 18th November, down to 
Windsor to be present at the funeral of the Princess 
Charlotte with the Lord Steward, Lord Cholmeley, 
and Sir William Keppel. The whole road from 
London was covered with carriages, caravans, horse- 
men, pedestrians, all hurrying down to Windsor. 
We reached the Queen's Lodge, nearly dressed, 


about a quarter to four. 1 There appeared to be no 
assembly room prepared, but two or three. 

" I went through the garden to the Lower Lodge, 
where was the Prince of Coburg and his attendants, 
and also those of the Princess. In the garden I 
met the Dukes of Sussex and Cumberland returning 
from paying Prince Leopold a visit. On reaching 
the Lodge, I received a paper of instructions, ticket, 
scarf, and hat-band of crape. 

" I remained at the Lodge, and I dined with 
Baron Addenbrock and Sir Richard Gardiner and 
Dr. Short. The dinner was silent and gloomy, and 
the only two who appeared not much impressed were 
Short and Addenbrock, who had known Princess 
Charlotte from her childhood. Before dinner the 
Prince of Coburg retired, as has been usual since 
her death, into the room where the coffin was, to 
weep and pray. His dinner was sent from our 
table, as also that of Lady John Thynne and Mrs. 
Campbell. Dr. Stockmar dined with him. Prince 
Leopold sent down for some woodcock. 

" After dinner I wished to go into the room 
where was the coffin, but Prince Leopold was again 
there. About half-past seven a royal carriage con- 
veyed Colonel Gardiner, Baron Addenbrock, and 
me to the cloister door. I proceeded to take up 

1 On examining the body of Princess Charlotte, the seeds of disease 
that would have terminated her life in eight years were discovered ; 
also something else the matter with her. — Mrs. Campbell. 


my station in the procession, and had to remain 
on the cold stones at least an hour. During this 
time of course there was a great deal of conversa- 
tion, which is one of the reasons, I conclude, that I 
found the assembly so little affecting. When the 
coffin moved into the body of the church, and the 
choristers sung, we, the equerries, were arranged 
on the floor, the lords in the stalls, &c, &c. This 
caused some confusion. Prince Leopold and the 
ladies, supported by the Dukes of York and Clar- 
ence, walked composedly up after the coffin. He 
was crying, and his lips quivered violently. They 
sat on three chairs of black cloth, fronting the altar, 
and having the altar in front of them. The singing 
commenced, and was very ill performed. The Dean 
of Windsor read the service extremely ill, and when 
he left his stall, instead of going close up to the 
coffin, he read the service over the heads of the chief 
mourners and supporters. He also read the prayer 
consigning the body to the dust before it was lowered 
in the grave ; and then followed some singing, also 
previously ; when the singing finished there was a 
long pause. I left my place and advanced near. 
They were letting the corpse into the vault, which 
was done so quietly that scarcely any one could, at 
a distance, know what they were about. He cast 
in dust upon it as usual. It was more like a stage 
burial, as it seemed to be carried down a trap-door. 
Prince Leopold remained composed. The ceremony 


concluded by Sir Isaac Herd, a very old man, in his 
full robes of Garter King-at-Arms, rehearsing the 
style. He did this in a very feeling manner, and 
was so overcome that he dropped into the arms of 
the persons behind. Prince Leopold, attended by 
his train-bearers, only then retired, having previ- 
ously given orders that the vault should be left 
open for him to pay a last farewell to the coffin. 

"The rest of the company retired pell-mell, 
having first crowded round the vault and cast a 
sorrowing look at the coffin deposited in its final 

" May God of His mercy receive her soul into 
blessedness and extend His right hand to comfort 
and protect her sorrowing consort, and may He, 
having punished these nations with His heavy visi- 
tations, receive us again under His wings, and keep 
us, as He has hitherto done, in glory, happiness, and 

"It is singular that the troops presented instead 
of grounding their arms. 

"Addenbrock, by the Prince Leopold's command, 
wrote to Bloomfield to beg that the Prince Kegent 
would cause a vacant place by the Princess Char- 
lotte's coffin to be reserved for his, which is to be 
done." — Lord Charles Percy's Journal. 

(Of course, as Prince Leopold became King of 
the Belgians, this wish could not be carried into 
effect. "When King of the Belgians, the late Sir 


Edward Cust managed his property at Claremont 
for him.— S. L. Bagot.) 

The Prince Regent would not allow Lady Jersey 
(Lady Harriet Bagot's mother) to be presented to or 
to see Princess Charlotte. Once Lady Jersey went 
to the Prince Regent and asked His Royal Highness 
the reason of that prohibition. The Prince was 
startled by the question and answered, " I will tell 
your ladyship the reason, as you insist upon it. I 
do not wish the Princess Charlotte to be con- 
taminated by the example of a bad daughter." 

Lady Harriet Villi ers married the Hon. and 
Rev. Richard Bagot at seventeen, and went down 
to Blithfleld Rectory when her husband was only 
a curate. 1 She was almost the best person I ever 
knew, quite adored in the parish, and by all her 
husband's family, and a beautiful woman. Lady 
Jersey had been powerless to contaminate her. 
Eveiy one at Blithfleld reveres and loves her memory 
to this day. 

I have always heard that at their wedding they 
were a singularly handsome couple. He was tall — 
Lady Harriet lovely, middle-sized, and with such 
charms of manners and voice. 

When Lady Derby had conducted herself ill, her 
mother, the Duchess of Argyll, was very anxious 

1 The Hon. Richard Bagot was Bishop of Oxford during all the 
Tractarian movement and died Bishop of Bath and Wells. His action 
and attitude towards the Tractarians are too well known by those who 
have followed the history of that movement to need recording here. 


that Queen Charlotte should receive her at Court. 
All her importunities were in vain. At last the 
Duchess said, "What shall I say from your 
Majesty ? " The Queen paused, and answered, " I 
will tell you what you shall say — that you did not 
dare ask me ! " 

Copy of a Note sent me by my husband, Colonel 
Charles Bagot, dated Monday, 10th April 

" 6 p.m. — United Service Club. 

" Just in time to say that the meeting (Chartist) 
is over, and was a regular humbug. Never above 
10,000 people on the ground. The Duke of 
Wellington announced to us his intention of 
taking the command himself in case of a row. 
It would be too bad for his last appearance in 
arms to be against a street mob. 

" If there had been anything, I should have had 
the cream of it, for I had the command of the picquet 
of 100 men ordered to be the first to turn out. 

"Charles Bagot, Grenadier Guards." 

Copy of a Letter from William Percy 

to me. 

" Excise Office, 10th April 1848. 

"My dear S., — Half-past two o'clock. The 
meeting is over and the people disappearing. 


"Fergus O'Connor was sent for by Rowan and 
told that if they attempted to pass the bridge in 
procession the troops would fire on them. He re- 
turned to the meeting and told the mob, and then 
put the question whether they would quietly dis- 
perse or cross the bridge, those who were for 
the first proposition to hold up their hands, when 
it appeared a large majority were for that more 
pacific proposition, and they all quickly dispersed. 

" I have heard the whole reckoned at 40,000, 
but the day has been very fine, and there were 
many spectators. They threaten another meeting 
on Friday. I have not seen Charles Bagot yet. 

"It is not, however, improbable that we may 
have some street disturbance at night, but we 
are rich in Special Constables (P. Louis Napoleon 
amongst the number), and the regular Police will 
be on their beats. 

" (Signed) William Percy." 



Miss Mary Bagot — Characteristics and dialect— Wednesbury — Can- 
nock Wood — Tamworth — Needwood Forest — Tutbury— Lichfield 
— Doctor Johnson — Lichfield Cathedral— The Staffords — Chil- 
lington — The Giffords— Boscobel— Wychnor and the Flitch of 
Bacon — Tixall— Bellamour — Beaudesert — Ingestrie — Shugborough 
— Keele Hall — Blithfield — Bagot's Bromley — Colonel Richard 
Bagot and Prince Rupert — Blithfield Church — Morris-dancers — 
The Beggar's Oak— The Bagots. 

The description of country life in Staffordshire, and 
of society generally in the earlier years of the last 
century, contained in the following chapters, I have 
taken from the unpublished journals of Miss Mary 

She was a daughter of the Kev. Walter Bagot, 1 
who held the family livings of Blithfield and Leigh 
for many years. Her journals, a collection of some 
forty volumes of closely written manuscript, extend 
over a considerable number of years. I knew Mary 
Bagot well in former times, and had a sincere re- 
spect and affection for her. 

Notwithstanding the prejudices common to the 
times and surroundings in which she lived — pre- 
judices of which, as her writings clearly show, 

1 Brother of the first Lord Bagot. 



she had her full share, she was nevertheless keenly 
interested in the changes which were everywhere 
beginning to make themselves apparent in the Eng- 
land of her day. A shrewd observer, she was a 
clever student of character, and a reader of the 
natures of those with whom she was brought into 

In some cases her criticism may be a little 
severe, and perhaps not altogether free from that 
bitterness which is supposed occasionally to show 
itself in even the gentlest among maiden ladies. 
Her comments and descriptions, however, bring 
the past life, and vanished scenes of which she 
writes, so vividly and so picturesquely to the minds 
of those who, like myself, can remember many of 
the individuals and circumstances mentioned by 
her, that I venture to believe they will be of 
interest also to those to whom they are matters of 
ancient history. 

I have preferred, therefore, to trust to Mary 
Bagot's graphic journalism rather than to my own 
unaided memory in the following pages, and, except 
where otherwise stated, her pen is responsible for 
the matter to be found in them. 

Many of the people and events mentioned by 
her I can also remember ; but as she was grown up 
when I was yet a child, and as, unlike me, she did 
not destroy the notes she had taken of the events 
passing around her, I feel that her account of them 


must necessarily be of a more trustworthy nature 
than those which I could furnish ; while the quaint, 
old-world language in which her thoughts and 
comments are occasionally expressed is assuredly 
more suitable to the days she describes than any 
words of mine could be. 

In the preceding chapters. I have given some 
description of Blithfield, and other old Staffordshire 
houses as I remember them. In reading through 
Mary Bagot's journals, however, I find the following 
descriptions of the county, which I make no apology, 
at least to my Staffordshire friends, for reproducing 
in their entirety. 

The paper is signed Mary "Bagot, and dated 
St. Julian's, Malta, March 181 7. 

It is preceded by the following introductory 
lines : — 

" This paper prepared for writing has for 
several days been lying in my desk — it was the only 
real step I had ever moAe towards the execution of 
a plan, which has long been in my mind, and never 
so strongly as since my residence in the country 
(Malta) from whence I often look bach upon 
England and Home, and not unfrequently upon 
Blithfield, with a degree of affection and veneration 
ivhich increases with my years; on that subject I 
wish to write— for that I have made this little 'pre- 
paration Preface. Every day steeds something from 


the certainty of recollection; our former home is 
destroyed, some of its inhabitants are passed away. 
I am anxious to secure every vestige of both which 
remains with me. The time may come when I 
should in vain attempt to do so." 

The County. 

" The very seed-plot of gentry," old Camden 
says, in speaking of some county ; it was a term 
that might have been bestowed upon ours. Stafford- 
shire has, I think, a sort of pre-eminence over its 
neighbours. In the days of which I write it was 
inhabited by a race of ancient nobility and gentry, to 
whom this honour seemed due, and was in general 
deserved. It contained a great variety of country in 
this respect. I do not know any other in England 
of the same size to be compared with it. The north- 
west part, which borders upon Cheshire and Derby- 
shire, is a wild tract, known by the name of the 
Moorlands, inhabited by a sturdy but uncivilised 
race. The farmers grow rich upon their dairy-farms, 
and, as in the patriarchal times, their wealth is 
estimated by their number of cattle — thirty milch 
cows and upwards are frequently the property of 
one man. The lower orders amongst them lived 
much upon butter and milk and oatcakes. Uttoxeter 
(or Uchater, according to the provincial pronun- 
ciation), an old town upon the Dove, might be 
reckoned the metropolis of this part of the country. 


The dialect has many of the northern peculiarities, 
and was much broader than that of the Southern 
people, who were indeed a very different race, 
their manners and morals having been affected 
by the neighbourhood of Birmingham (Bromwich- 

Along the western boundary adjoining Shrop- 
shire is a strange district of coal-mines, worked by 
a set of people more savage in appearance than any 
I ever saw in England. Their territory is devoid 
of any recommendation except the wealth derived 
from its mines, which seem to have been known in 
early ages, for, according to the tradition of the 
country, the town of Wednesbury in the heart of 
this district was anciently the capital of Mercia, 
and derived its name from Woden, the Vulcan of 
the Britons. 

Wodensbury, in its immediate neighbourhood, is 
a tract said to be undermined by subterranean fires ; 
in many places the earth has fallen in, to the injury 
of houses built upon this land, known by the name 
of "Wedgbury burning-field." The only object of 
any interest with which I am acquainted in this 
district is Dudley Castle, once a magnificent 
baronial residence, and according to the print in 
Plot's "Staffordshire," it was formerly surrounded by 
fine woods. Adjoining to this country, and stretch- 
ing into the very heart of the county, is an immense 
heath, which, though now without a tree, is still 


called Cannock Wood, and there was a time when 
a squirrel could have hopped on branches from one 
end to the other, a distance, I should think, of 
twenty miles. An eagle was once shot here ; my 
father had one of his wing feathers. 

On Cannock Wood was an extra-parochial place 
called Wyrley Bank, which was the haunt of all 
the beggars in the county. The south-east side 
of Staffordshire is fertile, flat, and cultivated ; the 
river Tame waters part of it, and near Elford runs 
through some of the largest and richest meadows 
I ever saw. It is crowned by "Tamworth tower 
and town." The Castle was, I believe, for some 
years deserted by its owners ; Lord Townshend 
has lately repaired it ; the arms of Marmion are 
still to be seen in the windows of the great hall. 
The title of Tamworth belongs to the Ferrers 
family, while that of Chartley, which is their place, 
is the name of the eldest son of Townshend. They 
were originally of the same stock, and bear in their 
arms three horse-shoes, to which their name may 
be traced, with the tradition that one of their an- 
cestors was blacksmith to the Conqueror. On the 
north-eastern side of Staffordshire formerly ex- 
tended Needwood Forest, which once equalled, if 
not exceeded, in beauty any scenery of the kind 
in England. Alas, that I am obliged to speak of 
this as a thing over and gone ! I do remember 
it in its glory, and can recollect the disturbance 


occasioned in y° county by its destruction. Almost 
every one of note objected and deplored, and yet 
nobody was found sufficiently powerful or active 
to prevent the measure from being carried in Par- 
liament. How I know not, but Mr. Bolton of 
Birmingham was said to have been its chief pro- 
moter. When the mischief was done and there 
was no redress the lamentation was universal, and 
has, I believe, never ceased. The gentlemen who 
lived on the Forest purchased laud round their 
houses ; and the giant Swilcar was, with a little 
lawn round his mighty trunk, also saved ; and this 
is all that remains of Needwood ! Its former glory 
and its fall have both been celebrated by Mr. 
Mundy in poems of no common beauty, and much 
more merit than any I am acquainted with, merely 
descriptive of local scenery. Of the various Forest 
lodges one will ever be remembered as the re- 
sidence of Mr. Gisborne — I recollect Yoxall well, 
being the first spot I ever saw beyond the im- 
mediate territory of Blithfield ; * it was at a time 
when a journey of eight miles was a great under- 

* An incumbent of Yoxal, Rev. Gisborne, of the 

same family, was living there about i860. He was a friend 
of Lady Wilmot Horton, in whose home at Catton I saw him. 
A local story (he was extremely thin) asserted that he was 
once attacked and pinned to the ground by a bull and was 
rescued unhurt, his body being between the horns. — 
S. L. Bagot. 


taking, and made nie considered as a traveller on 
my return. This was the first romantic scenery I 
had ever seen, and though I could not in those 
days understand my own feelings, I can even now 
remember how delighted I was in seeing the beauti- 
ful holly trees of gigantic size, observing the herds 
of deer, and looking along y e glades of what appeared 
to me a boundless wood. 

The church of Barton, where Mr. Gisborne 
officiated as parish priest, is large and handsome, 
and was, I believe, endowed by Henry VII. 

Eton Lodge formerly belonged to Lord Bagot, 
and I remember some parties consisting of happy 
people, and venison pasties which were much en- 
joyed there. Holly Bush, too, was another very 
pretty spot, and once inhabited by the same family. 
Near the house was a sycamore of great size. 
Adjoining the Forest and Derbyshire, but I think 
within the bounds of our county, is Tutbury. The 
Castle is finely situated ; every place which poor 
Mary of Scotland ever inhabited is interesting, and 
here she was for several years a prisoner. I think 
I have heard of an inscription on a pane of glass 
in a window at Abbots Bromley, written on the 
day she passed through that place on her road to 
Chartley. The west door of Tutbury Church is 
highly wrought with zigzag mouldings, and is 
reckoned one of the most beautiful specimens of 
Saxon architecture we have. It was to the bull- 


baiting of this place Clarinda was going when met 
by Robin Hood. I have seen in the library at 
Blithfield papers marked as belonging to Tutbury 
Honour, and never heard that word so used except 
by Waverley. 

I have not had the advantage of a map in 
endeavouring to trace out the boundaries and 
various divisions of the county, I may therefore 
be very incorrect. Lichfield, I think, is situated 
in the south-eastern quarter, its position is low, 
and I do not recollect the remains of fortifications, 
a castle, or anything that bespeaks it was a place 
of strength ; it is, however, an ancient and 
respectable little city, undisturbed by manufactories, 
and unfrequented now except by its regular in- 
habitants, who form a considerable society, very 
different from what it was in Johnson's days ; all 
the people of that time are still remembered by 
some of the oldest who remain, even Garrick him- 
self; some of his family are left, and seem to be 
honoured for his sake. Johnson's house (or rather 
that in which he was born) is pointed out with 
pride, also a willow tree under which he frequently 
sat on his way to Stowe. The window, too, out 
of which Lord Brooke received that shot* which 
deprived him of the power of fulfilling his impious 

* At the siege of Lichfield in the Civil War. It was 
fired by one "Dumb Dyott," a member of an old family 
of the name, the Dyotts of Freeford. — S. L. Bagot. 


wish of seeing all the cathedrals levelled with the 
ground; he saw no more, and Lichfield still stands 
the boast and beauty of the county. Its three 
spires were distinctly seen from the Parsonage (of 
Blithfield), and many a time have I stood in the 
nursery window gazing at them, and longing to be 
nearer to what appeared to me then as the most 
wonderful work of man. Of the wood beyond those 
spires I had no idea — that distance was greater 
than my mind could take in. This cathedral is, 
I suppose, one of the most perfect, if not the most 
beautiful we have. The design is graceful, the 
execution rich and delicate, and amongst so many 
beauties, I have no great reverence for those who 
dwell upon its defective proportions. The east 
window, which is an immense oriel, completely 
occupying that end of the church, is now filled 
with the richest old painted glass, saved by Sir 
Brooke Boothby from some religious building on 
the Continent during the havoc of the Revolution. 
In this country, I suppose, there is no finer specimen 
of an art which seems to be nearly lost. In the 
cathedral is a tablet to the memory of Colonel 
Richard Bagot, 1 governor of this city during the 
Civil Wars, and who fell on the right side at 
Naseby. My father had a ring which had be- 

1 His Highness Prince Eupert committed the government of Lich- 
field to Colonel Bagot, a son of a good and powerful family in that 
county. — Clarendon's History of the Rebellion, folio, p. 182, vol ii. 


longed to him and to the third son of the house 
ever since Colonel Richard Bagot's days ; it was 
unfortunately lost. The church at Stowe is the 
mother church of Lichfield. The city derives its 
name from two Saxon words signifying "the field 
of death," in memory of a bloody battle, in which 
three kings were slain (they are borne as the 
arms of the town), which was fought here. The 
cathedral is dedicated to Saint Chad, or Ceadda, 
as it is written in the Saxon Chronicle. (Does 
not this person become St. Sid in the west country ?) 
A bell is tolled every night during the winter and 
early spring months, from the endowment of a 
man who considered himself as saved from perishing 
in the snow by hearing the sound of a bell at 
Lichfield. 41 " Walter Scott says " antique Lichfield's 
moated pile," and Mr. Mundy, I think, calls its 
spires "the ladies of the vale." This cathedral 
has an advantage over most others from the little 
unencumbered lawn on which it stands. But there 
is no church in England, perhaps in the world, 
which in point of situation can be compared to 
Durham Cathedral; "huge and vast, looking down 
upon the Wear" and over the whole country in 
the most commanding manner. The people who 

* A similar custom is observed at Rome. The great bell 
of the Church of Sta. Maria Maggiore is tolled at night during 
certain months, in conformity with a bequest, to guide those 
lost in the Campagna. — S. L. Bagot. 


could build such a church and fix upon such a 
spot for it must have been a noble race. But to 
return to Staffordshire — of Lichfield I do not re- 
collect anything more to be said, and Stafford, the 
only other town of any note in the county, is one 
of the most uninteresting places I know. It is 
towards the north-east, stands in a low wet 
situation, watered by the Sow, which joins the 
Trent in its immediate neighbourhood. This is 
a town which has for several years been on the 
decline ; it was once inhabited by a respectable 
little set of gentry now entirely extinct or dis- 
persed ; and there is a stillness and gloom about 
the place I never saw excelled, The trade carried 
on here is of hats and shoes, but there is not 
enough to give any appearance of bustle or activity 
to the town. The Church of St. Mary is the 
principal one of the place ; it is ancient, built of 
red stone, and has a singular octagonal tower. Of 
the castle, which is distant a little way from the 
town, there was not much left except a part of 
a tower which from its lofty situation was quite 
a landmark over the country ; it belongs to the 
Jerningham family, who have lately rebuilt this 
tower, which has a good effect, as a feature was 
much wanted in this part of the country. I think 
I have heard that this castle and those of Chartley 
and Beeston (in Cheshire) were all built by the 
same family, the very ancient stock bearing the 


name of Stafford.'"" Blore Heath (see Clarendon) 
is not far from Stafford. The only thing I 
can recollect to the honour of the place itself 
is that old Izaake (sic) Walton was born there. 
His books are a treasure of wisdom, simplicity, 
and piety. "The Compleat Angler," with cuts 
by Grignon, was an early and great favourite of 
mine. I was pleased to find some years ago in 
Our Lady's Chapel, Worcester Cathedral, a tablet 
to the memory of Izaake's wife. The inscription, 
I have no doubt, was written by himself; it began, 
" Here lveth so much as could die of Ann, wife 
of Izaake Walton." 

I will now mention some spots in Staffordshire, 
all I am acquainted with, " whereby there hangs a 
tale." One of the finest places in the county is 
Chillington, on the Shropshire border, belonging 
to the ancient family of Giffard ; he beareth three 
stirrups, denoting the office an ancestor is said to 
have held under the Conqueror. His crest is the 
head of a wild animal pierced with an arrow, said 
to have been shot by a Giffard from the house at 
Chillington to the end of an avenue, killing at this 

* Hervey Bagot, younger brother of Simon Bagot of 
Bagot's Bromley, in the reign of Richard I. married Milli- 
cent Stafford, sister and heiress of Robert, last Baron 
Stafford of that creation, taking her name. From them 
were descended in direct line the Stafford Dukes of Buck- 
ingham. — S. L. Bagot. 


distance the creature at which he took aim, a story 
which might match those of Eobin Hood and Little 
John. This avenue, two miles long, is one of the 
few and the finest the country has still to boast. The 
present * possessor of Chillington is on some points 
quite deranged, and in many respects I really think 
it is an advantage to his estate — he will not suffer 
a stick of the timber to be cut down, and the oaks 
of Chillington stand unrivalled, except by those in 
Bagot's Park ; here, too, is the largest piece of water 
in the county. Mr. Giffard — or the "Old Squire," 
as he is called — rides over his immense property 
(followed by a troop of sons he has never suffered to 
go to school), dressed in scarlet with a great pair of 
rusty spurs, and sometimes a fox's brush in his hat. 
Here, and here only, I believe, the old custom of 
making a feast for the tenants, when they come to 
pay their rents, is now kept up ; quantities of roast 
beef and plum puddings on that day smoke in the 
hall at Chillington. In this immediate neighbour- 
hood is Boscobel, now a farmhouse, the property of 
Fitzherbert of Swinnerton. The remains of King 
Charles' oak are guarded with a wall, and the 
descendants of his friends, the Penderels, are living 
nearly on the same spot and in the same situation 
in which they gave him shelter. In this county too 
is a lineal descendant of Jane Lane's, 2 who duly 
honours the loyalty of his ancestress : his crest is a 

1 1817. 2 The Lanes of King's Bromley. 


roan horse supporting a crown. There are still 
some other places to be mentioned in Staffordshire 
before we come to Blithfield, which, perhaps because 
it is best, I keep to the last. Wychnor, on the 
Forest side of the county, is one of the many old 
halls which abound in this part of the world. 

Every one who reads the Spectator (and who does 
not X) knows the story of Sir Philip de Somerville's 
singular bequest, which is still belonging to the 
place ; and at this moment I believe the flitch of 
bacon is hanging up in the great hall at Wychnor, 
now the property of Mr. Levett. 

Tixall is one of the most respectable and ancient 
abodes in the county — a magnificent gateway is all 
that remains of the old house, which was the seat of 
the Astons, and came in the female line to the Clif- 
ford family during the last century ; one of them has 
published the family MSS. lately, I know not 
whether they were worth it. At Blithfield is the 
portrait of Sir Walter Aston, who was Ambassador 
to Charles the Fifth from this country. The Tixall 
property devolved to two sisters : the eldest, as I 
have said, married a Clifford; the second, Sir Walter 
Blount, of that ancient family. To Lady Blount was 
bequeathed an estate in Staffordshire, very near to 
Blithfield, called Bel-amour,* as I find, from the great 

* Bellamour Hall is now the property of the Horsfall 
family, so long and honourably connected with Liverpool. 
— S. L. Bagot. 


assistance which one of the Aston family received 
from his friends in building a hall there. It was 
reported that treasure was concealed here, and in 
taking the house down Lady Blount gave orders 
to be informed of anything which was discovered ; 
a small brick enclosure between two floors was 
found, and within " Poison for Eats ! " Lady Blount 
found great difficulty in building her house and 
making her plantations from the great hatred of 
Papists which prevailed in the country in those 
days. Her ricks were burnt, her young trees 
broken, and verses stuck up, of which I recollect 
only the first lines, which allude to the screen 
she was supposed to be contriving to shut out a 
view of Colton Church : — 

" Down with your heads, ye Popish crew, 
The church shall rear its head in spite of you ! " 

Lady Blount had the good sense to be more amused 
than angry. I remember well meeting our old 
gardener in great wrath at the track which her 
carriage wheels had made in the court before our 
house, saying, as he hastened with a rake to repair 
the injury (which from any other person he would 
not have minded), that " the Romans had been in 
the Ring ! " 

Beaudesert, 1 a word strangely pronounced by the 
country people, is a fine, respectable old place near 

1 The property of Lord Anglesey. 


to Lichfield, in the parish of Langdon, which is so 

extensive that it is said — 

" The stoutest beggar who begs on the way, 
Can't beg through Lang on a summer's day." 

The hawthorns in Beaudesert Park are of un- 
common size and beauty. There was a time which my 
father remembered when a coach-and-six might have 
driven into the great hall, but the place is much altered 
now. The lands of the rich Abbey of Burton were 
bestowed by Henry the Eighth upon a Lord Paget, 
who was a favourite and, I think, a minister of his. 

Ingestrie is now perhaps one of the most desir- 
able places in the country ; it was, I believe, 
originally built by one of the Chetwynds in the 
days of Queen Elizabeth. The church is exactly 
upon the same plan as that at Blithfield, and was 
probably built from it by Walter Chetwynd, who 
married a Bagot. This property now belongs to 
Lord Talbot, but how he acquired it or his title 
I know not. The old Chetwynd seat was at Hey- 
wood Park, a domain which was partly if not 
entirely purchased by Lord Anson (who has for 
years been trying to make a name and interest 
in the county). The house is in ruins, and was 
one of the many old halls in which this county 
abounds. The grounds are much finer than those 
about Lord Anson's own place, Shugborough, which 
is an immense modern house of the usual class, 
steps, wings, and a portico, situated in a dead 


flat loaded in a variety of ways. There is a 
Chinese house, a circular village, a set of arti- 
ficial ruins, and all the modern contrivances for 
farming on the most extensive scale. There are 
also several buildings which, I believe, were faith- 
fully copied from Stuart's "Athens," but are much 
out of character in this country : for instance, the 
Temple of the Winds, and what is called Diogenes' 
Lanthorn ; round the latter was an entablature 
representing many dancing figures, described by 
a country boy who saw it for the first time as 
" folks a pleeing them under th' easen." Besides 
all these devices, in a very exposed situation was 
a triumphal arch, of which the following is the 
truest and best character : — 

" What means this pompous pile, this cumbrous arch, 
Nor fit for Hero's bust or Soldier's march ? 
Upon it then be this inscription placed, 
Here lie interr'd Propriety and Taste." 

I believe these lines to be my father's. 

Tixall, and all the places I have mentioned 
since, are in the centre of the county, and the 
best part of it; "the sunny and silver Trent" 
waters it, and is crossed just under Wolseley Park 
by a simple bridge of three arches and great 
beauty; it was erected after the great flood of 1795 
or 1796, I forget which. On the Warwickshire 
boundary is Great Aston, 1 now the property of Mr. 

1 Aston Hall, Birmingham. 


Legge, once of the Holts, to be inherited by the 
Bracebridges, and alas ! to be demolished by credi- 
tors and Jews. This is one of the most respectable 
houses in the county, and very much resembles Hol- 
land House and Westwood Park in Worcestershire. 
It stood a siege during the Civil Wars. Some of 
the cannon-balls are still preserved, and their marks 
shown upon the walls ; part of the staircase balus- 
trade was shattered by one in the Great Rebellion. 
There is a gallery of immense length, with painted 
window where " glows the pictured crest." In the 
garden are some Portugal laurels of great size ; 
there is also an avenue and some good timber in 
the park, but the comfort of the place is sadly 
impaired by the neighbourhood of Birmingham, 
whose suburbs come up to the very walls of the 
parks ; its smoke infects the whole country. The 
sound too of its large hammers and the proving 
of guns are equally disadvantageous to this place. 
Alas ! all England is defaced in some way or 
other by manufactories. Canals are cut through 
the most peaceful and pretty parts of the country. 
Forests are destroyed, old walnut trees felled for gun 
stocks, and even the beautiful scenery of the lakes 
is disfigured by the villas of Liverpool merchants ! 
No doubt steamboats will soon be established on 
Ulswater. At Milan I heard with dismay a prize 
medal voted in the Brera to a man who had formed 
a plan for introducing one on the Lago Maggiore ! 


But to return to Staffordshire, I can scarcely 
recollect any other place as worthy of notice even 
by me in these streets. Sandon, where now there 
is a large modern house of Lord Harrowby's, must, 
I think, be the place, or near it, which is in 
Plot's history of the county called " Gerrard's 
Bromley" in a plate representing a fine old man- 
sion dedicated to Viscount Mazereen (sic) as the 
owner. How different are plates and houses since 
these were engraved ! where angels are repre- 
sented carrying a shield or some such device in 
the clouds, bearing the name of the place and the 

Staffordshire abounded with halls, as the man- 
sions of the gentry are universally called (in Wor- 
cestershire and Herefordshire they are termed 
courts). Keel, near Newcastle, is one of the most 
perfect that is left, or perhaps that ever was 
built ; it has been altered in modern days, but 
its original character preserved with a stone in 
the building, which bears its date 1581. Sneyd 
is one of the most ancient Staffordshire families. 
It is the old English word for Scythe, which with 
a fleur-de-lys he bears in his arms. I have now 
forgotten an old country ditty whose burden was, 
" Here's a health to the Sneyds of Keel." * 

* Keele Hall, the property of Ralph Sneyd, Esq. — S. L. 


Blithfield is situated nearly in the centre of 
Staffordshire, four miles north of the Trent, which, 
according to the old division of the county, places 
it in the Moorlands. The soil is deep and marly, 
excellent for the growth of timber, particularly 
oaks. The climate of this part of the county is 
cold ; patches of the winter snows used to remain 
longer with us in spring than in any other part 
of the neighbourhood. To speak first of the Hall, 
I well remember the time when, according to my 
childish knowledge and belief, there was not such 
another magnificent place in the kingdom, and 
yet, in fact, at that period perhaps there were few 
so mean, considering the property to which it be- 
longed. The house was situated, like most old 
ones, in a bottom, with a southern aspect. On 
the west was a green slope crowned with a grove 
in which were some limes of size and beauty ; to 
the north was the church, which, according to the 
custom constantly observed in " good old times," 
had its place in the most honourable part of the 
parish ; to the east were the gardens. In all my 
wanderings since I left Blithfield such large fan- 
tastic old oaks as Lord Bagot's I have never seen ; 
those at Croft Castle in Herefordshire will best 
admit of a comparison. The present Lord Bagot 1 
gave the Queen a chair made of his famous timber 
and finely carved by Westmacott. The original 

1 1817. 



house at Blithfield was probably very ancient ; 
indeed it was proved to be so from many dis- 
coveries which were made in taking down a part 
for the alterations after the death of the last pos- 
sessor in 1798. Several of the main beams were 
in several places reduced almost to nothing. I 
remember a slight touch of my father's stick bring- 
ing one down in powder; the tradition was that 
part of the house was as old as the Conquest. It 
came into the Bagot family by the marriage of 
one of them with Elizabeth de Blithfield in the 
reign of Henry II. — "tempus Henricus secundus " 
is inscribed on various parts of the walls. Before 
those days the abode of our ancestors was at Bagot's 
Bromley, adjoining the park. In an old farm or 
barn which was taken down there some of the 
original timbers and pillars of the house were found 
in such preservation that they were used by Lord 
Bagot in making the last alterations in the Pillar 
Parlour. I have heard that the library was built 
to receive Walter Devereux, Earl of Essex (son 
of the favourite), who was Lord-Lieutenant of the 
county. There is a strange little geometrical stair- 
case or " Hob-Nob," as it is called ; why it was so 
contrived, or by whom, I know not — it is very old. 
In the lower part of the house were two rooms 
formerly called "Paradise" and "Jerusalem." The 
first name was given, I have heard, from the beauty 
of one of the daughters of the house, whose apart- 


ment it was. The cap which Charles I. wore at 
his execution is also here, how it came into the 
family I know not. As usual with houses of the 
same date it was built round a quadrangular court. 

I delight to remember and record here what I 
look upon as a completely English scene : the 
blazing fire lighting up the great hall on Christmas 
night, the baron of beef smoking on the table, the 
black boar's head garnished with evergreens, the 
great pie ornamented with quaint devices of pastry ; 
old Leonard in attendance, serving all with equal 
alacrity and respect, from the owner of the feast to 
his lowest guest : every person in the parish had on 
that day a good dinner and a good fire to eat it by. 

The long galleries above stairs were filled with 
family portraits, valuable only as showing the dress 
and habits of the country through several centuries. 
There is an old Welsh Mrs. Salusbury and her 
grandchildren, who is represented in a high-crowned 
hat such as witches wear in fairy tales. Her daugh- 
ter was an heiress, and brought in the Welsh pro- 
perty and blood into the family. " My grandmother 
Salusbury's red petticoat " was said to show itself 
in the cheeks of her descendants whenever passion 
mounted there. I believe it was her father, Colonel 
Salusbury, who defended Denbigh Castle against 
Sir Thomas Mytton and the Parliament, the last 
fortress which held out for the King. The church 
is a model of its kind, and contains many curious 


old family tombs and monuments, tracing the sculp- 
ture of the latter from the rude flat stone to the per- 
fection of this art, which seems to have been brought 
from Italy. In my time, in "Lord Bagot's canopy 
seat," as it was called, there were still hanging the 
remains of old paper garlands and gloves which had 
been placed there at some burial, but the oldest 
person did not remember the time. This custom 
is mentioned, I think, in Brand's " Popular Anti- 
quities." I remember the pulpit with respect. From 
thence my father instructed his parishioners for 
upwards of forty years, and no people ever received 
more genuine doctrines of Christianity. How often 
I look back upon them with veneration and grati- 
tude, since it has been my fate to see the mischief 
of many sectaries, the wild preaching of some en- 
thusiasts, the desponding tenets of others, and the 
world, as it now seems to be, overrun with Method- 
ism. His sermons were by his own desire burnt 
after his decease. It was always his custom to read 
the Communion Service from the altar. Part of 
what was once the glebe is still called the Priest's 
Croft. From the Parsonage we had an extensive 
view, with the Wrekin, in Shropshire, nearly due 
west, its most striking object. I do not suppose 
any little territory ever afforded more hours of 
happiness to its possessors. With what eagerness 
we watched the opening of the first flowers, the 
green tips of snowdrops and crocuses in January 


under the south wall, and hailed the delight of 
seeing their white and golden faces on a sunny day 
in February or March. About the same time the 
rooks began their labours in one of the groves, 
which was exclusively their territory. Great com- 
plaints were frequently made by many gardeners 
of their proceedings, but they were my father's 
friends, and stood their ground against every attack. 
He took delight in their building and regular 
return after an evening's flight, and the expedition 
with which they repaired mischief occasioned by 
the violent March winds to their nests. The cawing 
of these birds is a sound for ever associated in my 
mind with the thoughts of home. After the useful 
labour, perhaps rousing all the best faculties of the 
mind, of repairing the injuries of winter to the 
garden, the soil of which, a marly clay, indeed 
required it (some flowers such as pinks and carna- 
tions we never got in perfection), the most brilliant 
and beautiful time with us was early June, when 
the laburnums and guelder roses were in their glory, 
and peonies and white naucies were alternately in 
blow all along the borders. Just at that time was 
Rugeley Horse Fair, a great festa with us. The 
road, which during the rest of the year was chiefly 
tracked by waggons and teams of oxen, was then 
crowded with women and children from the northern 
villages and hamlets who passed by our grounds to 
resort to this fair. The fourteen lime-trees planted 


by Sir Walter Bagot used then to be in their beauty. 
We also had pear-trees of enormous size, a very 
large Portugal laurel in the court, and in other parts 
of the garden immense hollies, which I think were 
the indigenous growth of the country. From the 
firs we collected a pile of cones, with which we 
delighted to make the parlour fires more bright 
and beautiful. Our retired, quiet situation and the 
abundance of trees and shrubs brought numbers of 
birds into our territory. We were well acquainted 
with their haunts and nests, and frequently tried 
our skill in imitating the latter, from the large 
rook's nest, formed chiefly of sticks and thorns, to 
the beautiful little mossy shelter of the wren, which, 
with wonder and delight, we saw wedged into the 
trunk of an old oak or under the thatch of a house. 
The hedge-sparrow's home of twigs and bents, con- 
taining in general four gleaming blue eggs, was 
to be found in almost every bush. The robin was 
a more careful and retired builder, generally chusing 
(sic) the shelter of a ditch bank or hole in an old 
wall. The firm, compact abodes of thrushes and 
blackbirds were distinguishable from two circum- 
stances — one lined with clay, the other deposited 
her darker blue eggs on a bed of bents. Another 
bird of the same species was not uncommon with 
us, and at Blithfield called the thrice-cock, by Bewick 
the missel-thrush, and in Worcestershire the storm- 
cock, from the weather which its loud, shrill note is 


supposed to foretell. I love the whole race, and think 
a thrush in full song the first of our singing-birds, 
and without any offence to the nightingales, whose 
notes they often imitate, believe that every one would 
think so if both sang at the same romantic hour. 

The chaffinch and goldfinch build perhaps more 
dexterously and delicately than any birds we have, 
and form a texture like that of the richest and 
finest blanket within, inlaid without with moss and 
grey lichen. I have seen them beautifully placed 
amongst the blossoms of an old apple-tree. The 
wonderful nest of the long-tailed tit-mouse I have 
only seen twice. The bill of the bird is almost as 
delicate as a needle. I remember a little fly-catcher 
who built on the hinge of a door frequently opened 
at Blithfield, and to have heard of an owl's nest 
brought to my father which contained more than I 
dare relate of food for its young — a lamb and a 
rabbit, however, am sure there were.* 

Beyond an extensive garden and the glebe was 
a great hayfield ; in the middle of it a gigantic oak, 
under which my father often sat to watch the work. 
His haymakers were the very old, the very young, 
the infirm, who for these reasons were refused 
employment in other places and found it with us. 
Notwithstanding the lapse of time and this distant 
situation, I identify myself so completely with the 

This owl surely had a very abnormal appetite. — S. L. B 


scenes and spots I am describing that, after writing 
of Staffordshire and Blithfield, on looking up from 
my paper I start as if awaked from a happy dream 
on seeing the reality of Malta and the Mediterranean 
before me. 

I examined a very beautiful ''Pedigree" cover- 
ing several feet of parchment splendidly emblazoned, 
containing various noble and some royal quarterings, 
commencing in the time of the Saxons, and proved 
at the Heralds' Office. A more perfect document of 
the kind could scarcely be seen, yet it had been sold, 
with various other similar relics, as mere rubbish 
when Hampton Court in Herefordshire passed by 
purchase from Lord Essex to Mr. Arkwright. That 
noble dwelling was formerly the seat of the 
Coningsbys, and the pedigree was of their ancient 
family. I found it had been connected with our 
own in the time of Henry III. ; Sir Roger de 
Coningsbye, having put himself under the pro- 
tection of his kinsman Guy Beauchamp, Earl of 
Warwick, by his means espoused Joan, daughter and 
heiress of William Bagot of Moreton Bagot, and 
of Hide juxta Stafford. Thomas de Coningsbye, 
grandson of Sir Roger and Joan Bagot, attended the 
Black Prince at the battle of Poitiers, 1356. * 

* One John Bagot, with nine men-at-arms, was at the 
battle of Agincourt ; another of the family, Sir Hervey, was 
Governor of Calais in Edward IIL's reign. — S. L. Bagot. 


In Ellis's curious publication of " Letters Illus- 
trative of English History" is a letter from Sir 
Amias Paulet to Secretary Walsingham, upon 
seizing of the Queen of Scots' money and dis- 
persal of her servants (Cotton MS.). In it Sir 
Amias says, " I thought good for the better dis- 
charge in these money matters to crave the 
assistance of Mr. Richard Bagot, who, repairing 
unto me next morning, we had access to this Queen, 
whom we found in bed, troubled in the old manner 
with a defluxion which has fallen down to her neck 
and bereft her of the use of one of her hands. The 
parcels of money were bestowed in bags and sealed 
by Mr. Richard Bagot."— S. L. B. 

The late Rev. Francis E. Paget, author of the 
" Owlet of Owlstone Edge," and some other in- 
teresting and amusing works now out of print, 
writes in 1872 of events in 1764: — 

"The seven daughters of Sir Walter and Lady 
Barbara Bagot were initiated into household duties 
and domestic work with most minute attention to 
details, but this was no detriment to them as 
gentlewomen — rather an advantage I have always 
thought — and they were self-educated far in 
advance of their time. I knew them all except 
Mrs. Sneyd and Mrs. Wingfield, and best of all 
one whose memory is ever dear to me, the youngest 
and last survivor of that large family. They all wrote 


beautiful handwritings, all were good French and 
Italian scholars ; two were fair artists in crayons, 
several were skilled in embroidery, and I possess 
a few very fine damask napkins, traditionally said 
to have been woven from thread of Mrs. Sneyd's 
spinning. I just remember Mr. Wingfield as an old 


11 On one occasion it is said that there was a 
dinner party of Royalist officers dining at Blith- 
field during the Civil War. Consternation was 
felt by them on hearing the drum beat, and till 
they were told of the old family custom of 
announcing meals by sound of drum,*' 5, they imagined 
that they had been betrayed into the hands of 
Cromwell's soldiery." — Rev. F. E. Paget to S. L. 

Blithfield Church. 

(From the writings of the late Rev. F. E. Paget, 1848.) 

" There is one venerable and dearly loved fabric 
which I now seldom see, but into which, whenever 
I am able to revisit it, I never fail to enter and 
linger alone amid its aisles to hold communion 
with the unseen world around me. It is there 
that my childish feet first trod on holy ground ; 
there with mingled feelings of pride in being ad- 
mitted to so great a privilege of wonder and of 

* A custom still maintained. — S. L. Bagot. 


awe, I first heard the public service of the Church, 
and tried to follow and love the prayers which I 
long had known that all good people loved. There, 
as Christmas after Christmas returned through all 
the happy years of boyhood, I was sure to find 
myself in all the bliss of family reunion, with the 
same dear friends and companions beside me, and 
the same associations, the same admonitus locorum 
et temporum growing stronger year by year. There 
I have lived to offer up the prayers and administer 
the blessed sacraments. There I have seen kinsfolk 
and acquaintance committed to the dust in sure and 
certain hope ; there, are some sleeping whom I have 
loved as I never can love again ; there, when my 
own work is done, I would gladly lay my bones 
beside their bones, and not part in death with 
those from whom in life I was not divided. . . . 
Thus, thought I, as I stood at the close of a sunny 
autumn day, gazing on shaft, and niche, and monu- 
ment, glowing in ruby light, will it be while this 
old fabric stands. How great have been the vicissi- 
tudes of human things since Saxon Herman raised 
the first rude oratory on this site ! Manifold indeed 
have been these changes, yet, whether they who 
assert or those who deny the spiritual supremacy 
of the Papacy were administering here, these" old 
grey walls have had the same calming soothing 
influence upon successive generations. . . . And 
yet a briefer space than these eight hundred years 


will suffice to tell of the effects of chance and 
change. Of those well-remembered faces which I 
used to see here Sunday after Sunday as a child, 
how few are still among us ! The generation which 
was then old has long since been swept from the 
face of the earth ; the brightest, the fairest, the 
best of the present one, with some few precious 
exceptions who have been left for our comfort and 
example, have been taken ; they have entered that 
land where there are more who are like them than 
are left in this world ! And of those who yet sur- 
vive, some indeed, like myself, though dwelling at a 
distance, still occasionally revisit the home of our 
youth ; but the majority are scattered far asunder, 
with other objects, interests, and affections than 
those of their childhood. And the few, the very 
few, who have continued here through the whole 
of their pilgrimage, now seem like spectres haunt- 
ing the scenes of their former happiness ; yet when 
I look on these grey walls I remember I am but 
sharing the emotions of whole races of Christian 
pilgrims gone before." — Rev. F. Paget. 

The Parsonage was a good square red brick 
house, built during the early part of Sir Walter 
Bagot's life : plain usefulness and the convenience 
of a large family had alone been considered in its 
structure ; many children, many servants, and often 


many friends were comfortably lodged here. The 
parlour (a good old word now wearing out) con- 
tained some fairly good pictures ; the one I liked 
best to look at was of a Miss Bagot, one of 
the beauties of Charles II. 's court, and said by 
Grammont to have been " the only woman belong- 
ing to it who could blush, and the only one who 
had no reason to do so." Her first husband was a 
Lord Falmouth, her second, Charles Sackville, Earl 
of Dorset. She obtained this picture by a stratagem 
for her brother. 

What would I not give to have a portrait of my 
father in this parlour in a winter's evening when 
after dinner the sofas were wheeled round a blazing 
fire ; he used to take great delight in playing with 
the youngest children, and would take off his wig 
that they might see and touch his bald head. On 
Sundays and birthdays a glass of wine was given to 
all, and a Latin toast to be repeated. He possessed 
in his study a valuable collection of divinity and 
classics, and spent hours of every day in unwearied 
reading till within a short time of his death. 

There were some old customs belonging to the 
place. On All Soul's Eve our doors were beset by 
all the boys of the parish shouting — 

" An apple, a pear, a plum, or a cherry, 
Or any good thing to make us merry." 

During the twelve days of Christmas we were 
sure of a visit from the Morrice-dancers, who per- 


formed their antics dressed in ribbons, armed with 
light sticks which they struck to the time of the 
tune, attended by a fool with a bell and motley 
coat, and often they danced on the snow in the 


"Who list may in their mummery see 
Traces of ancient mystery." 

I remember a party from Abbot's Bromley who, 
from the faint recollection I have of their proceed- 
ings, must, I think, have performed Maid Marian's 
dance, which is a very old national diversion. St. 
George and the Dragon was once enacted by some 
boys from Eugeley ; this is exactly the mumming 
of the western counties. Since that time I have 
heard much and fine music ; but none, I really 
believe, ever gave me so much pleasure as the 
Christmas Carols, the old ditties of the church 
singers, who used to be ranged in the " Little 
Hall" on Christmas Day, while we were allowed 
to look and listen from "the best stairs." On 
St. Thomas's Day all the parishioners received 
bread and beef for a Christmas dinner, and after 
the " getting in of the hay ' : how well I remember 
the loud shouts of "Harvest Home" before the 
supper for the workpeople on that joyful day. 

The Park is distant nearly four miles from 
Blithfield, and singular from remaining exactly 
in the same state in which it had been at the 
Conquest ; of course, trees had fallen by decay 


and others grown up into beauty, but nothing had 
been cleared away by man. No cultivation had 
been carried on ; the deer were lords of the ground, 
and, I believe, commanded not less than 12,000 
acres. One tree there was of immense size called 
" Beggar's Oak," * from a tradition in the family 
that a poor man under this tree once asked alms 
of the lord of the domain and was refused. The 
beggar's curse was a wish that the first-born of the 
house might never thrive, and, according to the 
history of the family, the wish has been granted. 
A flock of originally wild goats is kept there. The 
parish of Blithfield did not contain a meeting- 
house, an ale-house, or a workhouse. I do not 
recollect any instances of poverty such as I have 
since become acquainted with in other places and 
later times. Our poor were a laborious, simple, 
sober race ; they were tended and noticed, well 
instructed from the pulpit and in the schools. One 
of my first recollections is of the master of the 
small endowed school for boys ; he was also parish 
clerk, by all the village considered as a learned 
man and by some as an astrologer ; another of 
the village tailor, to which (for he was a person of 
ingenuity) he later added the vocation of uphol- 
sterer. A better man than he never lived. He 
fulfilled all the duties of his humble station kindly 

* It still stands, majestic as ever (1901). — S. L. Bagot. 


and well, and to the extent of his abilities and 
knowledge ; his house was a home, and his kind- 
ness a support to a numerous family. He was 
often employed at Blithfield, and from years of 
faithful service and a certain quaintness of manner 
he became a great favourite. A sketch of him is 
still preserved exactly representing his grotesque 
appearance in his crooked old wig, green baize 
apron, and great scissors sticking out of his 
pocket ; on Sundays he wore a handsome wig and 
hat, and drab-coloured coat. He survived his old 
"master," as he called my father, several years. 
Amongst various beggars was one called, from his 
county, " Cheshire " Jack ; his madness, whether 
real or feigned, was mixed with much method and 
native humour. Various stories were told as to 
his real origin and situation. Our village wake or 
feast of the patron saint of the parish, St. Leonard, 
was held in September. I well remember the sugared 
cakes and furmity made of the new wheat. The 
wake at Leigh, near Cheadle, was kept with much 
more solemnity ; wealthy farmers brewed ale for it at 
the rate of fourteen bushels to the hogshead, thus 
producing a beverage nearly as strong as brandy. 

It is only of the last generation of my family 
I am anxious to speak, one which is now nearly 
passed away, the last of a class and character 
which, "take them for all in all, we shall not look 
upon their like again." 


Sir Walter Bagot was reckoned the most amiable, 
popular, and one of the handsomest men of his 
day. The first person of the county he then cer- 
tainly was, though it contained many of superior 
rank, but none more beloved, of greater respecta- 
bility, or one whose opinion carried more weight. 
He represented Staffordshire several years, succeeding 
in a contested election against the Gower interest. 
"Sir Walter's days" were long talked of by the 
old people. He married Lady Barbara Legge, and 
was said never to have smiled during the two years 
he survived her. She appears to have been some- 
what feared by children and dependants, but re- 
spected by every one ; she was the mother of twenty 
children, of whom fourteen survived. William, the 
eldest son, afterwards Lord Bagot, accepted the 
peerage his father had refused ; he was plain in 
person, and had a manner which did injustice to 
the good sense, taste, and information he possessed. 
He travelled in Italy and was all his life enamoured 
of that country. 

Charles, the second son, inherited the property 
of his uncle Sir Charles Chester, whose name he 
assumed, and is still affectionately remembered, 
though deceased many years ago. No man ever 
possessed more estimable qualities or more genuine 
wit, that is inherited by some of his children. 

Walter, the third son, was my father ; the world 
did not possess a character which stood more fair — 



in every way he was above it. Like all the rest of 
his family he was educated at Westminster and 
Christchurch, and to the last retained a strong 
attachment to both ; at school he was the chosen 
friend and companion of Cowper. 

His virtues had their foundation in that which 
only is stable — our holy religion. 

His divinity was of the old school, untouched 
with enthusiasm, unperverted by party. The last 
book we saw him read was Butler's "Analogy" ; he 
much prized his Polyglot Bible, and bequeathed it 
to the living at Blithfield. 

He had a relish for humour, and possessed 
with several others of the family a strong and 
native vein of it. In early life he was a good 
rider, a bold hunter, and excelled in the sport of 
fly-fishing; in his youth, too, he had been hand- 
some. Of his dress he was neglectful, but had 
"Parson Bagot" been clad in rags and tatters 
there would still have been something in him to 
" show the world he was a gentleman." 

Lewis, the fourth son of Sir Walter Bagot, was 
one of those characters with which not many bless 
this world ; to piety, learning, strong sense, and 
wit, he added a delicacy of feeling, a refinement of 
taste, a brightness of fancy and placidity of temper 
peculiarly his own. His health was feeble, and it 
appeared as if in proportion as his frame was weak 
his spirit had been finely touched ; he was at once 


the most holy and most agreeable of men. Though 
long dead, I think there are still left amongst the 
many educated under his eye at Christchurch (a 
college of which he was in a manner the second 
founder) who from his instruction and example 
acquired that spirit which, as long as it remains, will 
make England deserve her post at the head of the 
nations for true wisdom and sound policy. Lewis 
Bagot was Bishop of Bristol and Dean of Christ- 
church, afterwards Bishop of Norwich, and finally 
of St. Asaph, where he was buried in June 1802. 

Richard Bagot, the youngest sou, went abroad 
early in life as Secretary to Lord Northampton's 
embassy to Venice ; he married the daughter and 
heiress of the Suffolk branch of the Howards, whose 
name he took. 

Of the seven daughters of Sir Walter and Lady 
Barbara Bagot, two alone were married ; the eldest, 
Barbara, was a beautiful, amiable, estimable, and 
clever woman, who early married Ralph Sneyd of 
Keele."* She was an excellent mother, the support 
of the family, the manager of the estate, and a kind 
wife to a husband every way her inferior. Her works 
of ingenuity were many and great. 

Mary married Roland Wingfield, Esq., who 

* I have heard that Mrs. Sneyd of Keele was taken by 
Wedgwood as the model for the pretty little lady seated on 
the teapot lids of the now somewhat rare black Wedgwood 


had an estate in Shropshire ; she was little known, 
and I think little beloved by the rest of the family ; 
of the pride of ancestry which is said to belong to it 
she had her full share, but I believe she had also 
estimable qualities. 

Of the other sisters two only are left (1817), the 
melancholy remains of a sisterhood who had lived 
together in Park Street beloved by all for near half 
a century ; they form with Mr. Howard the last of 
that generation, and seem to be the living chronicles 
of other times. 



The Ladies of Llangollen— The "Wakes 1 '— A Romance— Walter Scott 
— The Executioner of Charles I. — Dr. Tennison — Sir Charles 
Bagot — Lord Liverpool — Mrs. Bowdler— Lord St. Vincent's ghost 
storv — Disappearance of Mr. Bathurst — Funeral of George IV. — 
Charles X.— Guy's Cliffe— Mrs. Siddons— North Court— Mrs. 
Bennett — Doctor Johnson. 

For upwards of fifty years the Ladies of Llangollen * 
have resided at their cottage, never leaving it for 
more than a day and that very rarely, and never 
going to a great distance. It is not often that a 
scheme, decided by ourselves, and for ourselves, 
succeeds as that union did. Had I wished to show 
a human being to an inhabitant of another planet, 
and to have given a favourable impression of the 
race, I should have exhibited Miss Ponsonby, such 
as she was in her youth. 

In 1829 the annual Festival of the "Wakes," 
as it is called, was still observed in its primitive 
simplicity, hospitality, and cordiality. The season 
is the first week in November; a peculiar kind of 
sweet cake belongs to it, also furmity, made of the 
new wheat, and excellent ale, pure new milk cheese, 

* Lady Elinor Butler and Miss Ponsonby. They were de- 
voted friends, and lived all their lives together. — S. L. Bagot. 



may then be found at Leigh (Staffordshire) as would 
be sought for in vain in any other parts of England. 
Mrs. Kent gave me an account of the " Wakes," 
which she attended, which assembles all the nume- 
rous family within reach under the roof of the eldest 
brother, who supplies the place of the father they 
have lost. These " Wakes," the remains of the old 
" Wachen," to watch the vigil of the Saints' day of the 
parish church, were a bit of " Merrie England," but 
in later years degenerated into drunken and immoral 
revels, were put down, and gradually fell into disuse. 

The sight of a lady whom I have lately met 
brought into my mind (how little did she suspect 
it !) some strange and melancholy circumstances 
with which her early life had been connected : a 
long succession of years of good conduct have to 
the world obliterated the share she took in them. 
Many, many seasons have come round since the 
heiress of that family in Worcestershire sacrificed 
her own happiness to gratify her father's, it is said, 
in marrying the representative of one of the proudest 
names in England, with the prospect of a marquis- 
ate, which was the fatal lure. The match took 
place. The father died ; the daughter, though 
kindly treated, was wretched with a husband she 
could not love, and in an evil hour formed habits 
of intimacy with the young clergyman of her parish. 
They became mutually and culpably attached, with- 

'/(.).) - //<*/'*/ .JJf/f/t'f 


out exciting suspicion in the neighbourhood. They 
left it and fled together, accompanied only by one 

female servant of Mrs. C. 's. The cause was 

brought into a court of justice, a divorce pronounced. 

The guilty parties married, Mr. S fell into bad 

health, on which account they went to Lisbon, where 
he died. She returned to her native land, and to the 
family property, which could not be alienated, where 
she subsequently married a person of respectability, 
who had had the charge of it ; as an agent his con- 
duct to her was exemplary. She necessarily lived 
in great seclusion, and voluntarily distributed much 
of her ample fortune in acts of charity. After many 
years so spent a sickness came on which she felt 
would be her last. She entreated that the servant 
who had accompanied her to Lisbon might be sent 
for. She had subsequently married and settled at 

W . The woman arrived, and appeared to give 

great satisfaction to her old mistress, whose orders 
she was enjoined by her present husband in all re- 
spects to obey. The invalid died, the melancholy 
offices which immediately follow death were per- 
formed by her old servant, and a large and mysteri- 
ous packet which she had brought with her opened ; 
the body was enveloped in part of its contents, she 
followed it to the grave, and the solemn words 
" Ashes to ashes," " Dust to dust," were no sooner 
uttered, than she scattered a quantity of mould upon 
the coffin, which she had brought concealed in a large 


cloth under her mourning cloak, together with some- 
thing of a harder nature, as the sound testified. The 
woman never clearly stated what had been her 
measures ; but from hints she dropped, it was sup- 
posed that she had fulfilled a solemn promise to 
her mistress in wrapping her remains for their last 

abode in the sheet which had covered Mr. S when 

a corpse, and that mould from his foreign grave was 

scattered upon her coffin. Mrs. had given a 

strict charge not to be interred in the family vault, 
as she could not bear the idea that even their ashes 
should mingle ! The history of her first husband 
after their separation is not less remarkable. He 
justly attributed his misery in married life to the 
ambitious motives which led to his union with Miss 

V on her part, or rather on that of her father. 

He changed his name, did not adopt the title which 
shortly fell to him, went into a part of the country 
where he was entirely unknown, lived with the 
second class as one of themselves, passed himself 
off as an artist, obtained the affections of a farmer's 
daughter, married her, and not till she was within 
the gates of Burghley, the most splendid mansion 
in England, and hailed as its mistress, had she an 
idea that her husband was not her equal ; she was 
completely overcome and fainted away ; she did not 
live long to enjoy her honours. Her husband's next 

choice was the beautiful Duchess of H , an 

amiable and injured woman. This long narration 


is perhaps not worth writing, but some of the 
circumstances connected with it had come rather 
strangely to my knowledge, and the sight of Mrs. 
S brought them to my mind. 

Extract of a Letter from Sir Walter Scott, 

June 18 1 8. 

" You do me too much honour on the subject of 
our Scotch isles. I assure you I have no interest 
whatsoever in them, and so far from having acknow- 
ledged them by word or deed to Sir Alexander 
Gordon, I am not aware of ever having seen the 
person in question. I did know a Sir Alexander 
Gordon, who fell gloriously at Waterloo ! and I do 
know a Sir A. Gordon of Dumfriesshire, but another 
of the name is as much a stranger to me as the 
subject of his assertions. However, all this has 
been, I believe, conveyed already to you through 
Mrs., or rather our dear Jeanie Baillie, who we 
know possesses every endearing and estimable 
quality of head and heart. 

" I am very much obliged by your commendation 
of my attempts in poetry — in one point of view 
they certainly stand in need of indulgence, for they 
are like orphans, cast on the world, for whom their 
ostrich parent has never cared since they were sent 
forth. To say the truth, an early experience of 
what authors suffer who place much of their happi- 


ness in the success of their literary productions 
determined me to be as indifferent as possible to 
mine, and I assure you I have never looked at one 
of them since they left me till last summer, when 
I read ' The Lady of the Lake,' and found it better 
than I expected ; however, I did not like it well 
enough to venture upon the rest, and I may say 
with Macbeth, ■ I am afraid to think what I have 
done ; look on't again, I dare not ! ' I am glad 
you were pleased with my Matilda ; perhaps I was 
able to give a little more interest to the character 
from its having been drawn from the life when I 
wrote ' Rokeby/ I was happy in the society of 
its charming and truly amiable original, who is 
now no more. 

" There is such a clatter about me, I scarcely know 
what I write — two young Borderers, my son and 
nephew, are at this moment combating before me, 
with their naked broadswords, to the imminent peril 
of their eyes and ears, while a domestic musician 
is tuning a new pair of bagpipes. It is at least 
a consolation to know that one's family is making 
a noise in the world ! " 

Dr. Richard Smallbrook, Bishop of St. David's, 
sayeth, that when he was chaplain to Archbishop 
Tennison, the Archbishop told him as follows con- 
cerning the person that executed King Charles I. 

When the Archbishop was Rector of St. Martin's 


he was sent for to pray by a dying man in a poor 
house in Garden Lane, Westminster. He made 
haste, but found the man had just expired. The 
people of the house told him that the man had 
been very anxious to see him, and to confess to him 
that he had been the executioner of King Charles I. 
That he was a trooper of Oliver's, and that every 
man in the troop having refused to do that office, 
Oliver made them draw lots, and the lot falling 
upon him, he did the work in a mask, and that he 
mixed immediately with the crowd, hiding the 
mask. That he had never been easy in his mind 
since. He had lived some time in the house of 
the persons who made this statement, was grave 
and melancholy, and much distressed for want of 
religious consolation from Dr. Tennison. 

Dr. Tennison was in much esteem for his good 
offices about dying persons. 

Charles I. lay one night, Saturday, May the 10th, 
at the Vicarage of Inkberrow, Worcestershire, where 
there is still a picture of him ; when the back was 
removed some time ago to be cleaned, the above 
account was found written on a sheet of paper, 
which I have seen and copied. 

1820. — A Jacobite being called upon for a toast, 
or rather to drink King William's health, replied, 
" The tongue can no man tame. It is an unruly 
member. James 3rd and 8th ! " 


Lichfield, 1827. — I spent one evening this 
week at the house which formerly belonged to 
Lucy Porter, where Johnson so often visited her. 
I have seen also in this place some reliques of the 
Sage, which had been inherited by the family, to 
whom his daughter-in-law bequeathed her property, 
and I remember particularly a collection of letters 
tied up in an old silk handkerchief, and his walking- 
stick, which had been newly varnished, and was 
threatened with a brass ferrule, which, however, I 
begged might not be applied. 

We drank tea last night with a niece of the 
late Bishop Porteous, who showed us what I should 
think was the strongest relic of Popery which our 
church has retained. A box of scarlet and gold 
containg three bags of the same materials for offer- 
ings similar to those of the Wise Men, which is 
yearly presented at the Chapel Royal by the Queen's 
Almoner on Epiphany Sunday, is consecrated by 
the Bishop, and aftrwards becomes his perquisite. 
What was formerly an ingot in the offering is now 
reduced to a roll of gold leaf. 

November 6, 1829. — Sir Charles Bagot dined 
here. He was naturally clever, strikingly hand- 
some, always agreeable, notwithstanding the ex- 
treme finery of his earlier days, but that has given 
place to better things. Pie has spent many years 
abroad, and is returned one of the most agreeable, 


conversible, and entertaining of travelled men. His 
situation as our Ambassador at St. Petersburg, 
enabled him to witness the splendour of the Empire 
of all the Russias, in the Court of Alexander — 
whose state banquets or suppers are given in a 
saloon as large as Westminster Hall. The tables 
are pierced to admit the immense stems of the 
orange trees (which are brought from the Taurique 
Palace), the guests literally are seated under their 
shade, in all the abundance of fruit, leaf, and flower. 
The plateaux are formed of all that is most splendid 
and odoriferous, amidst "the fragrant progeny of 
milder climes," and this is done when the tem- 
perature of the outward atmosphere is perhaps 
twenty-five degrees below zero ! * 

Lord Liverpool had a severe seizure last spring 
1827 ; but the world in his case, though in the midst 

* At an official banquet given by Sir Charles Bagot at 
St. Petersburg, a handsome snuff-box was passed round 
the table and disappeared. The loss was put into the 
hands of the police. The snuff-box was found, but the 
head of the police asked Sir Charles to make no inquiries 
as to who had taken it — of course he did not. — S. L. B. 

The Emperor Alexander I. was godfather to Sir Charles 
Bagot's son Alexander. The Empress thinking Lady Mary 
Bagot was cold, at the first visit she paid to the Empress 
after the christening, took an Indian shawl off her own 
shoulders and put it on my mother-in-law, who left the 
shawl to me. The Emperor gave Sir Charles a miniature of 
himself, and also a very striking miniature of Catherine II. 
These are now in my son's collection at Levens. Sir Charles 


of its business and allurements, could not obtain the 
ascendant over his great and good mind, and re- 
ligion, which he never neglected during any part 
of his life, has been his support at its most trying 
period. I was much interested in hearing an ac- 
count from the clergyman who attended him of the 
devout manner in which he received the Holy Sacra- 
ment. The expression of piety in his countenance 
at those times might have been a subject for a 
Domenichino. The only question he asked last 
spring after his seizure, with regard to the world, 
was, Who had been his successor in office? On 
Mr. Canning being named he seemed perfectly satis- 
fied, and asked no more ; but at the commencement 
of this year he requested to see the Red Book by 
signs, for he has very little power of articulation, 
and turning to the list of the Cabinet, evinced the 
greatest astonishment on seeing the name of Lord 

Bagot on one occasion invited the Czar Alexander to dinner. 
Sir Charles wishing to do him special honour, had a cup 
of coffee brought to the Emperor on a most beautiful small, 
old silver salver, which Sir Charles took from the servant, 
and presented himself. The Czar refused it, with a look of 
suspicion ; seeing this, Sir Charles drank the cup of coffee 
himself, and ordered a servant to bring another cup for 
the Emperor, who then took some. This event occurred 
soon after Sir Charles's arrival in St. Petersburg. The 
Czar subsequently honoured him with his friendship and 
confidence. It is not to be wondered at that any one of the 
house of Komanoff in those days should suspect foul play. — 
S. L. Bagot. 


Goodrich, a title with which he was not acquainted. 
It was explained to him, but he made no remark, 
and asked no more. What a singular moment was 
that in the life of a Minister ! 

1829. — Yesterday arrived our dear friend, Mrs. 
Bowdler. At her age one feels every visit may be 
her last. The following anecdote I have heard 
from her. It is one of a large stock, which no 
other person can relate as she did. 

Sir Hugh Paterson of Bannockburn, when up- 
wards of ninety, told Mr. Bowdler that he had been 
a member of Queen Anne's last Parliament, when 
a numerous party ardently wished the succession 
should be secured to her brother. The adherents 
to his cause in the House of Commons, to the 
number of 275, met privately at the Cocoa Tree, 
in order to discuss the manner in which this 
measure should be publicly brought forward. Sir 
William Windham, who was in the chair, read a 
letter which he had received from Lord Bolingbroke 
advising them to postpone the meeting to a later 
day, as the step they proposed might be inimical 
to the Peace of Utrecht, not then finally adjusted. 
"Afterwards it would be brought forward with the 
sanction and support of her Majesty's Ministers. " 
Sir Hugh went up to the chairman, saying, "Dinna 

trust him, Sir William ; he's a d d scoundrel, 

and will ruin us." Many coincided in this opinion, 


indeed, the majority of the meeting, but they would 
have been a minority in the House of Commons. 
They broke up and met no more, and the result 
justified the truth of Sir Hugh Paterson's prediction. 

Dr. Ratcliffe was summoned once to attend the 
Princess Anne of Denmark, and was ordered after- 
wards to make his report to her father, which he 
did. The ailment was very slight, and on being 
asked by James eagerly if it would be necessary for 
his daughter to go to Bath, he said, "Decidedly 
not," at which the King expressed much pleasure, 
being, he said, very anxious that she should be 
present at the Queen's delivery, which was not 
far distant. The same night the physician was 
roused from his bed by the Duchess of Marlborough 
(who did not then bear that title). She told him 
that he must the next day unsay what he had said 
to the King. The doctor thought it would be very 
difficult and not very creditable to himself to do 
this, but his objections were overruled by the assur- 
ance that the welfare of the State and the Protes- 
tant cause was concerned in the measure ; so the 
next day, after having again seen the Princess, he 
informed the King that he now saw reason to think 
she ought to be removed to Bath without delay. 
There she went, and there she was, it is well known, 
at the time of her brother's birth. Had she been 
on the spot, it would have been more difficult to 


have propagated the story of the supposititious child, 
and she was too honest a woman to have supported 
a falsehood knowing it to be one. She remained in 
error many years, but in error she did not die, and 
if her powers had been equal to her wishes she 
would certainly have been succeeded by her brother, 
James III. ; but she was a weak woman, and out- 
witted by her Ministers. The above anecdote was 
related at the table of an old Jacobite, Lady Fitz- 
Williams, by Dr. Ratcliffe himself. He said, " I 
should not so act if it were to be done over again, 
but at that time, by God, madam, I would have done 
anything for the sake of the Protestant Succession." 
Mrs. Bowdler heard this conversation, and it is re- 
corded in her own handwriting. 

Mrs. Ricketts, who was nearly related to Lord St. 
Vincent, became the tenant of an old house in the 
country, where the peace of her family was griev- 
ously disturbed by noises which could not be ac- 
counted for. x\fter having endured it for some time, 
and stated the case to Lord St. Vincent, he and 
his friend Admiral Barrington determined to watch 
through the night in the room supposed to be 
haunted, or rather at the two doors which were the 
only means of access to it, each leading to another 
apartment. Both gentlemen took their station pro- 
vided with pistols, and certainly were the last per- 
sons to be frightened. In the dead of the night 



Lord St. Vincent rushed into the room exclaiming, 
"I have it, I have it," and found he had seized 
upon his friend, who had entered at the same 
moment by the same impulse. What they saw or 
heard they never would impart, but Lord St. Vin- 
cent in consequence of it urged Mrs. Kicketts to 
leave the house, and she did so, but her nerves 
never recovered what she had there undergone. 
One of her predecessors in that habitation, and 
one, I believe, of whom she had never heard, was 

a Lord Z , who was supposed there to have 

promoted the end of a young woman whom he 
had seduced. 

Mrs. Bowdler when very young was sent by 
her father to see Garrick, as he thought not 
having done so would be a thing to regret during 
after life, and our great actor was then upon the 
eve of retirement from the stage. Mrs. B. saw 
him perform five of his most celebrated parts, and 
upon the whole rated his comic more highly than 
his tragic powers ; she had been more moved by 
others, but never so irresistibly amused. As a 
performer to act with, Mrs. Siddons stated Garrick 
to have been extremely disagreeable from the sort 
of despotism he maintained on the stage, and the 
subordination in which all the other parts were 
to be kept. Mrs. Clive said she was convinced 
the "Beggar's Opera" had done more essential 


harm to the morals of the country than any other 
piece which has ever been brought forward. She 
was a respectable woman and a competent judge. 

Napoleon Buonaparte, when a boy at the military 

school of , received much kindness at the 

hands of an English lady who happened to be 
resident in the town. She subsequently returned 
to her own country. At the Peace of Amiens, 
when the intercourse between the two nations was 
revived after a long cessation, Buonaparte, then 
First Consul, was frequently in the habit of in- 
quiring after this lady of the many English who 
were presented to him, and did this so often that 
at length it came to her knowledge, and various 
applications were made for her interest with him ; 
this she steadily refused till the extraordinary dis- 
appearance of Mr. Bathurst took place, when she 
wrote to Buonaparte and stated that she never 
would have done so but for the power which 
rested with him of alleviating deep and individual 
distress, divested of political feeling ; she therefore 
besought him if any light could be thrown upon 
the business that, for the sake of the unfortunate 
family, it might be given. This letter could not 
be answered, but a fortnight after it was received 
the writer had the satisfaction of knowing that 
advertisements appeared in almost every gazette 
of Europe describing Mr. Bathurst, and offering 


a considerable reward to any one who would give 
information as to his fate. 

July 15. — This being the day of the funeral 
of George IV., it was observed in London by the 
closing of all the shops. The appearance of the 
town was very singular, and never, I should think, 
could it have been seen before so completely 
deserted. The day, with the exception of a very 
few drops of rain, was fine, and myriads had 
poured out of town, some to enjoy it in the 
country, others to witness the solemn pageant at 
Windsor. The few who were left, being in mourn- 
ing, except those of the lowest classes, and no 
holiday attire to be seen, as on Sundays, produced 
an effect such as I certainly had never before seen 
in the streets of the Metropolis. 

At nine o'clock the minute guns were fired and 
answered by a solemn toll from the Abbey bell 
during an hour, which, from being very near to 
it, overpowered, to us, similar sounds from all the 
other churches. The general feeling of this day 
was, I should think, little more than that of awe, 
which any circumstance bringing death strongly 
before us must inspire. It requires but trifling 
exertion on the part of the great to be popular, 
and nature, in having bestowed a graceful ap- 
pearance and fine manners on George the Fourth, 
might have rendered it peculiarly easy to him, 


but he had latterly neglected all the means to 
secure the affection and respect of his subjects 
by living entirely secluded from them. However, 
he is gone to his account, and it will be well for 
his memory if no rude hand throws back the 
curtain which he had drawn so closely round his 
private life and closing years.* 

July 2,0th, 1830. — We heard of all the convul- 
sions into which France has been thrown by the 
infatuated conduct of Charles X. The positive state 
of the case is not known, as the mails had not 
arrived as usual, and all that is known seems to 
be by means of a commercial express. It is said 
that the King has fled to Fontainebleau, that a con- 
flict took place in the streets of Paris in which 1000 
men were slain, and that the capital is now besieged 
by a general of the King's. Other accounts state 
that Charles has abdicated in favour of the Due 
de Bordeaux, that a regency is appointed, and the 
Due d'Orleans is at the head of it. Intelligence 
like this forms a striking contrast to the peaceful 
and apparently prosperous country around us. 

One cannot help contrasting with this account the 
very different feelings exhibited on the 2nd February, 
1 90 1, not only by a nation, but by an empire, not only 
by white races but by coloured, and the love and sorrow 
with which Queen Victoria was followed to her grave. — 
S. L. Bagot. 


August Afth and 14th. — Accounts from France 
are now most eagerly looked for, and read with 
astonishment, in some respects not unmingled with 
admiration. Carnage in the Paris streets, but to the 
credit of the contending parties no savage butchery, 
private property respected, and public faith kept 
towards the strangers of all nations, and the inter- 
cepted letters and packets returned to the different 
ambassadors unopened. 

October gth, 1830. — A fellow traveller in our 
Southampton coach had just arrived from the 
Continent, where he was an eye-witness of the 
French Eevolution. . . . He had seen the fine trees 
of the boulevards with all their leafy branches 
thrown across the streets to form barricades ; he 
had seen the blazing barriers, the destruction of 
the furniture of the Tuileries, which was thrown 
from the windows and lying untouched below ; the 
insurgents with their swords, &c, knocking the 
heads from the casks of champagne in the royal 
cellars and drinking from the barrels, but not to 
excess. He had seen many bodies of the Swiss 
guard lying dead, with the twenty-five francs un- 
touched in their pockets, which they had received 
as a reward for their resistance to the people who 
did not deprive their fallen foes of anything except 
their cartouche boxes ; he had seen an overturned 
diligence and paving stones torn from the streets 


used to form defences, and had heard on the morn- 
ing of the 20th the " liseurs " of the prohibited 
gazettes in the Palais Royal, which acted as the 
igniting sparks to the immense explosion which 
followed. These and many more details did we 
hear from our travelling companion as we were 
rolling through the fine forest district which sur- 
rounds Southampton, and through bleak downs, 
hop grounds, and fir woods, finally reached the 
mighty metropolis under a dense atmosphere of 
yellow fog, cheered by the blazing gas which was 
already lighted, and left the coach at the old White 
Horse Cellar." 

The following extract from Miss Mary Bagot's 
journal well illustrates the changed temper of the 
present times and the proportion in which events 
are viewed : — 

October 20th. — We dined this day with one of 
our few neighbours, a mercantile person, who re- 
turned from London with an alarming account of 
the depressed and fluctuating state of the funds, 
occasioned by the convulsed situation of the Con- 
tinent, and still more perhaps by the prospect of 
affairs in Ireland, where the repeal of the union is 
loudly, and, may be, violently demanded by that 
formidable body who attend the orders of O'Connor, 
" the Liberator," as they affect to term him. The 


papers announced what seems to be the certain 
establishment of railroads. The change which such 
a system may effect cannot be foreseen in all its 
bearings, but the tremendous fluctuation of pro- 
perty (so much of which is vested in canals) which 
it must occasion is certain. What awful times are 
these, when the topics I have mentioned form the 
conversation of one afternoon ! 

May 23rd, 1823. — Went to Guy's Cliffe, 1 which 
perhaps never looked more beautiful, the clear 
strong lights and deep shadows showed to great 
advantage the picturesque irregularities of the house 
and all its singular accompaniments ; a romantic 
and delightful spot. We wandered through the 
walks by the river and meadow to the ancient mill, 
and under the cliff, shaded as it were by flowery 
tresses of lilac and laburnum, visiting Guy in his 
chapel, where his gaunt and gigantic figure carved in 
the living rock, though mutilated, is still majestic. 
This place is thoroughly enjoyed by its possessors,* 
to whose kindness I am much indebted, and to-day 
it was contrasted with the finery and folly of one of 
the party who assembled at dinner. Saw Mr. Great- 
head's study full of books and delightful means of 

* Mr. and Mrs. Bertie Greathead. — S. L. Bagot. 

1 Now the property of Lord Algernon Percy, brother to the Duke 
of Northumberland. 


enjoyment ; he read some curious extracts from 
Philippe de Comines, and lent me a German work. 

The only son of this family, who died young,* 
was a very wonderful artist — many of his works, of 
course, are in this house. The most extraordinary 
is a representation of Spenser's Cave of Despair — 
a dreadful subject. It is now fixed behind some 
sliding oak panels in one of the rooms and only 
shown when it is requested, f 

There is also a portrait of Bonaparte, taken in 
1 80 1, the first, I believe, that ever was in this 
country, by the same hand.+ 

Mrs. Siddons passed two years of her early 
life in this family as the servant of Lady Mary 

* Father of Lady Charles Bertie Percy, from whom the 
present owner inherits. — S. L. Bagot. 

f Many years later a respectable-looking man called at 
the house and civilly begged to be shown the "portrait of 
his father," who, he said, had sat as a model to young Mr. 
Greathead. None of the pictures were what he wished to 
see, till at last the panel was slid back which covers the 
Cave of Despair. He immediately recognised his lather, 
who had been a " skeleton man " in some travelling circus 
abroad. — S. L. Bagot. 

j The study for this portrait of Bonaparte, now in the 
possession of Sir Edward Durand, was first executed on 
his thumb nail by young Greathead, from the view he had 
of the First Consul in some public place, I forget where. It 
is said by contemporaries to have been a striking likeness, 
and " Madame Mere " said it was the best portrait there was 
of her son. — S. L. Bagot. 


Greathead (nee Bertie), the mother of the present 
possessor whom, as a boy, she used to delight by 
reading Shakespeare. Their friendship has continued 
through life to the honour of both parties. The 
tradition of this place is that Guy of Warwick, 
several years after his return from the Holy Land, 
used to share the distributions made by fair Phyllis 
at this door ; he then occupied a hermit's cell in 
the rock, and only on his deathbed made himself 
known to her by sending a ring, which had been 
her gift, back to her hands.* 

September 4th, 1823. A lovely autumn day. I 
went with Mrs. Percy t to North Court, 1 a place after 
my own heart. An old, grey stone house, of the 
best Queen Elizabeth style, situated on a most 
verdant lawn, sheltered by huge trees, and sur- 
rounded with sunny, smooth terraces rising above 
each other, and here and there bordered with dahlias 
and hollyhocks, and other splendid flowers of the 
season. A most picturesque village joins the 

* The two Miss Berrys were frequent visitors at Guy's 
Cliffe to the Greathead family. The late Duke of North- 
umberland, who died in 1898, told me he had danced with 
one of the Miss Berrys at a children's party in London. 

The Miss Berrys were well-known in London society and 
great friends of Horace Walpole's. — S. L. Bagot. 

-f- My mother. — S. L. Bagot. 

1 In the Isle of Wight. 


grounds, though not seen from them, and the 
whole domain (it is no mean compliment) seems 
as if it were lying in a fertile English valley. All 
within the abode bore marks of antiquity, good 
sense, and good taste, as well as wealth. The long 
oriel windows were enriched with painted glass, 
and shelves of the library filled with an admir- 
able collection of books and prints, and the walls 
decorated with many old and curious portraits. 
Through a Gothic conservatory, which joins the 
sitting-room, the eye is carried along a green turf 
terrace to what appears to be an interminable wood- 
land vista. Mrs. Bennett,"'" the owner of North 
Court, though several years turned of seventy, from 
her activity and appearance might well be supposed 
only to have reached middle age. Through her 
long life she has lived in the best society, but the 
high polish of good breeding has not obscured or 
diminished her native originality of mind in any 
degree. She is also a person of considerable obser- 
vation and information ; the conversation of such 
a character is delightful. 

I copied the following inscription from a curious 
old painting over the chimney-piece in the dining- 
room at North Court : 

"This . is . the . Pictor . of . Sqr . Willyam . Walworth . Knight . 
that . Kyled . Jake . Stran . in . Kynge . Eichard's . sight." 

* Nee Burrell, daughter of Sir Peter Burrell, afterwards 
Lord Gwydyr. — S. L. Bagot. 


North Court, 30^ September. — We left the 
Undercliffe at the most brilliant moment of a very 
brilliant evening, when the bright lights and deep 
shadows seemed to add beauty by apparently in- 
creasing the inequality of the long line of rock 
which extends like a fortification through this sin- 
gular and romantic district. The sun was setting 
with all possible pomp as we arrived at the summit 
of St. Catherine's. Behind the distant Dorsetshire 
coast of Purbeck and Portland all the rest of the 
prospect had faded into cold blue and grey tints, 
different as the brilliant hopes of youth compared 
with the sober reflection and experience of age. An 
autumn evening soon becomes night, and it was 
dark and cold when we arrived at this comfortable 
old place. 

The portraits which illustrated Mrs. Bennett's 
" Sevigne " fill four volumes of imperial quarto ; the 
views, two of the same size. She has also two 
original MS. letters, and an invaluable medal of the 
number of those struck by Monsieur de Grignan, 
and presented by him to the friends of Madame de 
Sevigne after her death instead of a mourning ring. 
On one side of the medal is her head, her age, her 
name, and the date of her decease ; on the other is 
represented her coffin, upon it a withering rose, with 
this motto: <; The flower is dead, but its sweetness 
remains." This was given by Sanvare the traveller 
to Mrs. Bennett. 


There is at Niton (just below the Sand Hock) 
a mound known by the name of the Old Castle. 
In part at least it appears to be artificial. There 
is a vague tradition that it once was searched into, 
and some pottery found. On better authority this 
is supposed to have been one of the stations from 
whence the early tin trade of this country was 
carried on, and the principal passage to Gaul, made 
by those adventurous rebels that had previously 
coasted along Cornwall, Devonshire, and Dorset. 
The little cove below the Old Castle is called 
"Wraiths Bay," as it appears from the bodies which 
are generally washed asbore here, with other ves- 
tiges of wrecks, as the current here drives with 
great force. The great currents of the great seas 
are very wonderful. That which is the most so, 
because it is the best known, certainly passes 
through the Bay of Mexico before it sets into the 
Gulf of Gibraltar. It is known by the higher 
temperature of the water and a peculiar kind of 

The same cause accounts for the productions 
of Florida and that part of the world being fre- 
quently found on the shores of the Orkneys. A 
poor woman of Brixton parish during the last fort- 
night picked up a bottle at Brook Point, in this 
immediate neighbourhood, containing a paper dated 
from the Shannon at sea, specifying the latitude and 
longitude, stating herself to be in great distress, 


with several feet of water in the hold. It was 
dated June 23, and in what anguish of mind may 
oue suppose that bottle was committed to the 

The honours of the University of Cambridge 
were once performed by Dr. Watson, the late 
Bishop of Llandaff, and then a professor there, to 
Doctor Johnson. After having spent the morning 
in seeing all that was worthy of notice, the sage 
dined at his conductor's table, which was sur- 
rounded by various persons, all anxious to see so 
remarkable a person, but the moment was not 
favourable. He had been wearied by his previous 
exertions, and would not talk. After the party 
had dispersed, and Johnson remained alone with 
his host, he said, "I was tired, and would not 
take the trouble, or I could have set them right 
upon several subjects, sir. For instance, the gentle- 
man who said he could not imagine how any plea- 
sure could be derived from hunting. Now, sir, the 
reason is, because man feels his own vanity less 
in action than when at rest." 

Took long and lonely walks in the neighbourhood 
of Lichfield, which is not particularly interesting 
except from recollections of Johnson. The following 
anecdote of him was lately new to me. 

Lord K , when a youth at Eaton (sic), felt 

particularly anxious to see the sage. A friend pro- 


mised to manage it, and soon afterwards took the 
boy to Mrs. Thrale's sale, where almost the first 
object they saw was Johnson, in his character of 
executor, full dressed with a waistcoat trimmed with 
silver and powdered wig, leaning against a huge 

cask. Lord R 's companion made some remark 

to the Doctor upon the incongruity of his appear- 
ance in a scene of such traffic, and had for answer, 
"Sir, I am not selling staves and tubs, but disposing 
of the potentiality of wealth beyond the dreams of 




Dean Stanley — A primitive Curate — Merton College — Bath — Lord 
North — Interview with Dr. Johnson — Somerford and the Monck- 
tons — Chillington — Jack Mytton — Archery at Blithfield — Lichfield 
races — Mrs. Somerville — Lady Augusta Murray's birthmark — A 
white dromedary and a poor Monarch — Cheneys and the Russells 
— Harriet Bagot's death-warning — Captain Whitby — Death of Mr. 
Canning — Prince Charles Edward — Mr. Bowdler — Lord Edward 
Fitzgerald — A dream — A true history — The earthquake at 
Lisbon — Edmund Sabine — Lord Macaulay — Mr. Canning — A 
ghost story. 

June 1829. — Whilst we were at the Water Colour 
Exhibition I was introduced to an elderly clergy- 
man, with dark intelligent eyes, as the father of 
" Arthur Stanley," in whose " Tour to the Pyrenees " 
I had found so much pleasure and felt so much 
astonishment last November. Since that time he 
has been placed at Rugby, and Mr. Stanley told me 
his last communication from him was as follows : — 

" Dear Father, — I have been very unwell. I 
therefore took a dose of physic, and locked my 
door, being anxious to be well by Thursday, when 
we are to have an examination, and our head-master 
will examine us himself." 

I should think this anecdote must be unrivalled 



in school history, and feel more than ever convinced 
that, if he lives, the world will hear more of Arthur 
Stanley. 1 

Sketch of a Primitive Curate and the Moorland 
Country of Staffordshire, 1829. 

1829. — Heard on my return of the death of Mr. 
Thomas, many years curate to my father (Reverend 
Walter Bagot), at Leigh in Staffordshire, and who 
has remained in the parish and same situation ever 
since his death, having lived there upwards of forty 
years. He was the last link in that preferment 
connected with ourselves, and still felt so warmly 
towards the family that when my brother Ralph met 
him, at the visitation last year, he burst into tears 
on seeing him, recollecting my father. Mr. Thomas 
was of a good Welsh family, he was a respectable, 
humble-minded, but illiterate man, and never wished 
for other or better society than was afforded by the 
farmers who inhabited that moorland parish, some 
of whom were very wealthy. They had immense 
dairies, made excellent cheeses, and brewed very 
strong ale, to wit, 14 strike to the hogshead. From 
the name of Hall, which several of their dwell- 
ings retained, it may be supposed they had once 
been occupied by gentry, but certainly not in the 
memory of man, and altogether it was a very primi- 
tive district. The church was very handsome, and 

1 Subsequently Dean of Westminster. 


in honour of it the parish was designated Church 
Leigh. Uttoxeter, the market town and the capital 
of the Moorlands, was at the distance of seven miles. 
From Blithfleld it was twelve miles, but notwith- 
standing that, during four months of the year, from 
Whit Sunday to Michaelmas, my father always went 
over, generally on horseback, and setting out early 
in the morning, to perform the Sunday duty : Mr. 
Thomas coming to Blithfleld, and the sound of his 
voice in the lessons rings in my ear, even now, in 
hearing them, notwithstanding the lapse of more 
than twenty years. 

Archery parties were the great fashion in the 
Midland counties, &c, and meetings, bye-meetings ; 
costumes, the great subject of conversation amongst 
the young ladies — an archery hat, though made of 
the coarsest straw, and containing two green 
feathers, was to cost one of the young ladies five 

19th August 1829. — I left Straldon this morning. 
Mr. Williams conveyed me to London in his gig, 
and chemin faisant gave me the following par- 
ticulars of his little parish, which was the site of 
one of the very earliest ecclesiastical establishments 
for the promotion of learning, and was founded by 
Walter de Merton, who was Bishop of Rochester, 
and Chancellor of England in the reign of Henry 
III., and at the termination of the Barons' wars,. 


removed his infant institution from this retired spot 
to Oxford, giving it the name of Merton College, 
and endowing it with the lands of the parish where 
it had been originally established, and which since 
those days has undergone very little change, and 
known but little of the improvements which other 
districts have derived from their resident gentry and 
landowners. The Palace of Nonsuch itself stood 
very near to Ewell ; of its two parks, one extended 
to the boundary of this parish. Why it is called 
Worcester is not known, but on the spot now occu- 
pied by a farm, Charles the Second built a house 
for the Duchess of Cleveland, where she frequently 

Mrs. B remembers Bath for many, many 

years, when Alfred Street was in the country, and 
afterwards when Anstey's "Bath Guide" was not 
a caricature, but a faithful portrait sketched with 
the utmost truth and spirit. Sir Boreas Blubber 
was Colonel Burton, ancestor of the present Marquis 

of C . He was very tall and proportionably 

large, and once hired a chair in the South Parade 
to convey him to his dwelling in the Crescent. 
The threatened storm did not come on, and he 
never entered the chair. When he paid the fare 
the men were not satisfied, and when he remon- 
strated was told, "though you never did get into 
the chair, please to remember how we trembled 


for fear you should." This was irresistible, and the 
additional shilling was paid. Seven balls a week 
used to be given during the season at the Bath 
Rooms, which now cannot support one (1829); it 
is supposed they will be closed altogether. 

Lord North had been very rudely designated 
as "that thing calling itself a Minister," in a 
speech by Lord Lansdowne, who was subsequently 
attacked for abusive words by some one who had 
been wounded by them, and whose temper was 
not so equable as Lord North's, who simply ob- 
served, " I wonder any one can feel aggrieved 
by the expressions of that noble Lord. I never 
am — for instance, he lately called me ' that thing ' — 
now, I know very well what he means ; namely, 
I am ' that thing ' he wishes to be — First Lord 
of the Treasury." 

Mrs. P read an interesting extract from 

Mr. Windham's diary, containing an account of 
his last interview with Dr. Johnson, and the solemn 
exhortation of the latter to his friend on the subject 
of religion. His own firm profession of faith, and 
some principal evidences upon which it has been 
early grounded. One expression I particularly re- 
member was : " We have no such proof that Caesar 
died in the Capitol, as we possess that Christ 
suffered in the manner revealed in the Gospels." 


Dr. Johnson consigned his servant, Frank, parti- 
cularly to Mr. Windham's care, and took leave of 
him in a very affectionate manner, expressing a 
fervent hope of meeting again hereafter in a better 
world — " through Jesus Christ." During the earlier 
part of the conversation — Dr. Johnson began it by 
placing the New Testament in Mr. Windham's 
hands — he had earnestly exhorted him as to the 
observation of the Sabbath, in examining the 
state of his own soul, and held it to be peculiarly 
necessary in his situation, entering upon a line of 
life one of whose dangers must necessarily be 
making this world predominate in his estimation 
over that which is to come. 

During the week I spent in Brook Street I 
went to visit Judge Barton, who is now 92, and 
quite blind. He spoke of Blithfield, and the 
beauties of Needwood, which he recollects, and 
for him, in his mind's eye, still exist, and of Tom 
Bagot as his chum at Westminster, whose remains 

* Of Somerford, a house in Staffordshire that my father 
and mother and myself as a child often visited, Mary Bagot 
gives a very graphic account. 

The Moncktons of Somerford were great friends of my 
mother's. I can just recollect old Mrs. Monckton, and 
feeling great awe of her, in a long black velvet dress, and 
all the signs of age alarming to a child. Sophy, Anna 
Maria, and Eleanora were the daughters. Anna Maria was 
the wit — Eleanora the beauty. — S. L. Bagot. 


have lain, I should think, during the last seventy 
years in the garden of a convent at Naples, where 
he died, a very young man. 

Miss Mary Bagot says, " We came to Somerford 
— a most singularly constituted family it is. The 
head of it is in his 84th year. He made his fortune 
(in India) many years ago, where successively he 
sent all his numerous sons except two. They 
have returned (all, at least, who lived to do so, 
with the exception of one), finding their parents 
still in existence, their sisters unmarried, the house 
unaltered ; and together they continue to live, and 
certainly nothing can be more singular than all 
these elderly men and women performing the part 
of the young people, and showing the same implicit 
obedience they probably did as children of five 
years old, notwithstanding their deafness, their grey 
heads, and failing sight. The daughters excite 
great respect in my mind, from their admirable 
conduct towards a set of orphan nephews and 
nieces whom they have instructed, and, out of their 
own small allowances, clothed. They seem, indeed, 
to have kept themselves "unspotted from the 
world" and free from all its vanities, notwith- 
standing an immense acquaintance in London, a 
house constantly full in the country, and being, 
moreover, the nieces of Lady Cork. There was at 
Somerford much hospitality, much good will, good 
sense, and good principle ; much to admire, much 


to respect, but there was the absence of something 
to interest." 

December ioth y 1829. — I was delighted with an 
excursion to Chillington, and astonished by the 
beauty of the place, notwithstanding all I had 
heard, and certainly I had never seen anything in 
this country to compare with its woods and water. 
It is the property of one of the oldest Roman 
Catholic families in this country, originally Nor- 
man ; the first owner of these broad lands, after 
the Conquest, came over with King William, it 
is said, as his stirrup-holder, in memory of which 
office the armorial bearings of Giffard are three 
stirrups. Boscobel was the property of a Giffard (in- 
habited by the brothers Pendrill) when it afforded 
a shelter to King Charles II., in memory of which 
an exemption from all kind of tax was granted to 
the property of the family. 

The late representative (the brother of Cowper's 
" Marie") was for many years of his life insane, and 
remained so until its close ; but no entreaties could 
induce his doating wife (a daughter of Lord Courte- 

I remember my mother telling me that when one of the 
sons left Somerford for India the hall clock stood at a 
certain hour — many years afterwards on his return home 
the clock stood at the same hour. Nothing was altered in 
the drawing-rooms — he found them exactly as he had left 
them — a most conservative house. — S. L. Bagot. 


nay's) to have a statute of lunacy taken out against 
him. I have heard my mother say that after the birth 
of one of his children, to annoy his wife and prevent 
her sleeping, he used to take his violin and play 
outside her bedroom door. It would have been 
far better if Lady Charlotte had listened to those 
who advised her to put her husband under control 
as her numerous family grew up, the sons without 
discipline, and the handsome daughters ran wild in 
their splendid home, which from the state of its 
owner for many years was forsaken by the rest of 
the neighbourhood. 

At the death of the late Mr. Giffard, which 

* It was thought that Walter Scott took Chillington as 
his original of Osbaldiston Hall. 

The young ladies of the Giffard family, when I first 
remember them, shot well and rode well ; sport was the 
sole occupation of the family, except of Walter Giffard, 
whom I recollect at Teddesley. He was called by his 
brothers " the gentleman," because he avoided sports and 
liked books, and worked carpet work and knitted purses. 
He looked delicate. At Chillington I was told that in the 
old Squire's days (Lady Charlotte's husband) the port wine 
was not decanted — a barrel of it stood in the hall, and 
people drank it as they wished. A worse state of things 
could not exist. Barbara Giffard married the famous Jack 
Mytton, a well-known fox-hunting squire of his day. An 
account of his eccentric life was published some years ago. 
Luckily such types are extinct. I recollect her well with 
her beautiful lithe figure. She could not remain with her 
eccentric husband ; in one of his moods he put her pet dog 
on her bedroom fire in her presence. — S. L. Bagot. 


took place a few years ago, his son inherited 
,£20,000 per annum, 12,000 acres about his house 
in a ring fence, mines of coal and iron stone which 
had never been worked, and after cutting down 
timber to the amount of ^1600 the estate was still 
the best wooded property in the county. 

For the younger children there was scarcely 
any provision made, but their brother gives them 
and his mother a home in his large mansion. The 
fine avenue is two miles and a half long. The first 
part is formed of a double row of firs, the latter of 
oaks, with an interfringe of hollies ; the width must 
I think be nearly a quarter of a mile, measuring 
from the outward row of trees to that which 
answers on the opposite side. The intermediate 
ground has a wild and forest-like appearance, 
excepting only the ribbon-like road which marks 
the centre, and leads straight to the house, which 
has a commanding situation, was once a venerable 
mansion, and is now a vast modern pile with a 
gigantic portico. There is a wooden cross near 
the avenue which marks the spot where the panther 
was slain. 

December nth. — We again went to Chillington ; 
our visit was now to the house, and it is well worth 
seeing from its ample dimensions and handsome 
site. We found a large family party. One of the 
daughters was deputed to show us the house, and 


made us feel she did not like the office, as she 
sauntered through the splendid rooms. The only 
interesting one is the great hall — all which now 
remains of the old mansion — and a magnificent 
relic it is. I suppose the dimensions were 80 by 
40 feet, the height in proportion, and rising into 
a vaulted roof — the whole is lighted from the 

Over the immense fireplace is much carving, 
representing the armorial bearings of the family, 
and Sir John Giffard in the act of slaying the 
panther, with the following motto in old French : 
Prenez aleine — et tirez fort. 

In the great dining-room, which was being 
prepared for a party, we saw on one table five 
large gold cups, and were told that the house 
contained more, all won by Mr. GifTard on the 
turf. Nothing like a library or books appeared, 
and the few that lay on a table all on field sports, 
and one other book which appeared to be most 
read, not desirable to leave about where there 
were ladies. An enormous dog, and very handsome, 
of the great St. Bernard breed, stalked about the 
room ; after having surveyed the company, he 
stretched himself on the rug. 

Somerford, as usual, full of guests — some had 
arrived lately from India — others came from North 
Wales and Cheshire ; this is one of the pleasant 
circumstances which sometimes occur in a large 


country house, that it forms a link between widely 
distant parts of the country, and even of the globe. 

Went to Newcastle, where we dined. The light 
of the furnaces and factories, which now surround 
the place, glared over the snowy surface of this 
wintry landscape. 

We hear much of the struggle which is carried 
on between canals and railroads, or rather which 
will be if success attends the latter scheme, and 
probably that must be the result when thirty miles 
an hour has been accomplished with safety, and 
much more is promised ! Should this project 
answer, the change which must take place in the 
state of the country, the situation of its inhabitants, 
and alas ! in its own fair face, is beyond all calcula- 
tion. It is possible that those who live ten years 
longer may survive green fields, retired lanes, and 
how many other enjoyments ! In the present state 
of conveyance, the potter of this neighbourhood 
pays as much for the carriage of his crate of goods 
from hence to Lichfield as is afterwards necessary 
for its transference to America. Upon such facts are 
founded the hopes of the abettors of railroads ! 

Cliristmas Day, 1829. — We were disturbed at 

* A propos of Chillington, my old nurse, a Stafford- 
shire woman, told me bear-baiting was last seen there 
in her youth ; she had frequently seen bear-baiting. — 
S. L. Bagot. 


night by the ringing of bells (the church being 
close), the singing of the mummers, continual in- 
terruptions on Christmas Eve, and carols, &c, all 
the evening of Christmas Day. 

September 1827. — At Lichfield, where we ar- 
rived at about nine o'clock, I most thankfully left 
the coach, and not often has any one more nearly 
verified the expression of being "tired to death." 
Nevertheless, between two and three o'clock the 
next day, I found myself in the midst of a splendid 
crowd and of ostrich feathers, assembled in the 
halls of my fathers to attend an archery meeting 
given by Lord Bagot, who on such occasions spares 
no expense or trouble. When the guests were 
collected, leading out Lady Shrewsbury himself, 
he requested all to follow to the shooting ground, 
which was done to the sound of the excellent band, 
and halted on the very spot where stood the old 
Parsonage, where, notwithstanding the gay crowd 
and lively airs, " Auld Lang Syne" alone filled my 
head and heart. The principal target was placed in 
the centre of the green walk which I used to gaze 
at from the nursery window, scarcely supposing the 
country had anything to compare with it in wealth 
and beauty ! One of the great pear trees, which 
formerly grew at the end of the house, which was 
cut down, has thrown up a stem, which is now in 
its turn a tree, and I saw it loaded with fruit, and 


thought of the pleasure my father used to have in 
it. Many trees have been planted, many others 
removed, but I recognised some old familiar forms 
with pleasure. There was the gigantic Portugal 
laurel, on whose boughs we used to ride, under 
whose shade we built houses ; the lignum vitae, 
on whose bough the thrush always sang his even- 
ing ditty ; the high holly trees, in whose lower 
branches birds' nests never failed the eager seekers, 
who, however, would as soon have cut off a hand 
as have wilfully disturbed or destroyed one. The 
waving grove of beech and elms, once thickly 
peopled by my father's friends, the rooks ; the 
large firs, picking up whose cones was a pleasure, 
and burning them afterwards another, at that age, 
and those bygone days when pleasures were simple 
and thoroughly enjoyed ! For the Strangers' Prize, 
the target was fixed on the very spot where, with 
poor Hervey and Humphrey, I shared a little gar- 
den, and even now I believe remember nearly all 
that it contained. I was able to ascertain the 
place by reason of a holly tree which is left, and 
whose summer shower of leaves have heretofore 
occasioned me much labour and vexation. In the 
midst of such recollections, I was carried away from 
the really splendid and present scene, striking and 
beautiful as it was, and to which I must return. A 
quiet observer of numbers collected for such a 
purpose, must be dull indeed, not to be amused 


by dint of observation — at least, that is a source 
which never fails me, and certainly it did not at 
Blithfield. I saw some real enjoyment, natural, 
genuine ; I saw some acts of disinterested kindness 
— but I also saw the extreme of vanity unabashed 
and undisguised, setting even common decorum at 
defiance, and making a beautiful girl little better 
than a disgusting object. I saw love of rank lead- 
ing to all that is mean ; and heard heartless attempts 
at merriment from some who have lived for the 
world, and from whom it is now beginning to pass 
away. The dress, generally speaking, was superb. 
Such hats — such brilliant colours — such flounced 
petticoats and such gorgeous bracelets I never be- 
fore saw. The archery uniform for the ladies I 
did not think was in general very becoming, con- 
sisting of a dark green pelisse and hat of the same 
colour, ornamented with gold and white feathers. 
The prizes were very handsome ; a gold chain, 
cameo brooch, garnet and gold clasp, gold wrought 
bracelet, gold earrings. These were adjudged by 
Lady Harriet Bagot, Ellen Anson, Miss Boothby 
and Caroline Gresley. The gentlemen's prizes were 
a chased snuff-box, a gold pencil, and silver sand- 
wich case. They were won by Heneage Legge, 
Colonel Newdigate, and Richard Gresley. At six 
the shooting ended, and after a weary hour of total 
idleness and almost darkness, dinner was served 
in the hall, and a temporary room a hundred feet 


long ; it was sumptuous and abundant, and except 
turtle, venison, fish, and game, everything was cold. 
The decorations were of laurel, mingled with the 
emblems of archery, and such a multiplicity of 
lamps that the whole scene was light as day. The 
fruit formed the most beautiful part of the show, 
and nothing could be more picturesque than its 
arrangement. Pines, melons, grapes, and peaches, 
piled in silver vases placed upon the centre of every 
table, alternately with pine trees, about three feet 
high, in pots, and laden with bunches. This sight 
was really worth a journey to witness. After the 
dinner was over, and the rooms cleared, the ball 
began, before eleven o'clock, and was kept up till 
two. A little before four o'clock we were again in 
the Close at Lichfield. 

September 12th, 1829. — Lichfield races — miser- 
able day, rain and wind. We could not remain in 
the stand, and toiled up to a room, already full of 
ladies suffering from all the inconveniences of heat 
and crowd, immense hats, wet coats, and the rain, 
which made its way through the windows and 
ceiling. It was impossible to see anything exter- 
nally. The dresses were of the same extraordinary 
kind, which have done so little credit to the taste 
of this year. The most remarkable person in that 
respect was Lady C. T. in a gown of brilliant yellow, 
with a bright pink hat of immense dimensions ; if 


these pages survive a few years, such a mixture will 
scarcely be credited. * 

Lichfield. — The recollection of Dr. Johnson 
adds an interest to this place, indeed, is almost its 
only charm : opposite to me this evening was an old 
clergyman, perhaps the sole person now remaining 
who remembers his celebrated townsman and asso- 
ciated with him when here. During his last visit 
he caused to be repaired and replaced a simple stone 
in this cathedral over the remains of one of the 
very few victims who have ever fallen a sacrifice to 
hopeless affection, which had been entertained by 
a poor young woman for Johnson's father, who, 
when informed of her feeling, offered to marry her, 
but it was "too late," as she herself said. She 
died, and a few simple words record that " near 
this place are interred the remains of Mrs. Elizabeth 
laney, a stranger." 

July 1823. — Dined at 49 Brook Street, and 

* The young ladies in Staffordshire in those days fre- 
quently came out at the Lichfield and Stafford Kace Balls, 
and partners who admired them came down by coach from 
London and elsewhere to dance the first dance with them. 
In these days I should doubt any partner taking a similar 
trouble ! Our old nurse told me that, as a girl, she had 
heard my mother's and my aunt, Mrs. Chetwode's, names 
toasted, and their healths drunk as beauties at the Lichfield 
ball following the races. — S. L. Bagot. 


thought myself particularly happy in the party I 
met. Mrs. Somerville was of the number. She is 
without any exception the most extraordinary per- 
son, as to attainments, I have ever known, which 
perhaps is little to say, but I might safely add that 
this country ever owned amongst its female in- 
habitants. Her wonderful talents, many accom- 
plishments, and deep scientific knowledge are all 
veiled under the most feminine, natural, and con- 
ciliatory manners it is possible to imagine ; wisdom 
is, indeed, in her character, united with the gentle- 
ness of a dove. She has been principally self- 
taught. She was very early married, and very 
young a widow, when she returned to her father's 
house, and spent five years chiefly in solitude and 
in study. 

1823, August 4th. — Miss Hay and Mrs. Bowdler, 
who are both with us, mentioned the following cir- 
cumstance which both had seen. Lady Augusta 
Murray, who was born three months after the 
execution of her father, the Earl of Cromarty, came 
into the world with the mark of an axe and three 
drops of blood upon her throat, which she bore to 
her dying day. 

1829. — Captain Lyon, on his return from his 
African travels, obtained a white dromedary of 
extraordinary beauty, and from its colour, which 



is very uncommon, it was very valuable. He was 
also very spirited, but Captain Lyon treated him 
kindly and judiciously, and frequently he said he 
was indebted for his life to that animal's speed 
and exertions ; and his great wish was to present 
it to the King on his arrival in England. This 
was done, and the dromedary, in the finest possible 
order, was placed in the Royal Mews, exact orders 
having been also transmitted as to how it ought 
to be treated. Some time afterwards, Captain 
Lyon went with a party to see his old friend, and 
was told by the keeper it had become very fierce. 
Captain L. went up to the noble animal, who was 
holding its head very high, as they do when dis- 
pleased, but he instantly recognised his master, and 
without the slightest opposition suffered him to 
mount. Captain Lyon soon discovered his favourite 
was nearly starved, and remonstrated strongly and 
it may be supposed angrily. The next morning 
he received a note requesting him to remove the 
dromedary, as his Majesty could not afford to keep 
it. This order was promptly obeyed, and not with- 
out indignation, and the poor animal under kind 
treatment soon regained its flesh and its temper. 
The fame of his beauty spread, and the Master of 
Exeter Change, having seen and greatly admired it, 
said to Captain Lyon, "You are going abroad, and 
cannot want this creature, and I will gladly give 
you ,£500 for it." " No," said Lyon, " the King 


cannot afford to keep it ; of course, no one else 
can." After putting his arms round the dromedary's 
neck and kissing it, he shot it to the heart. It may 
now be seen stuffed in the British Museum. 

I went to-day to Cheneys, a little quiet village 
on the borders of Buckinghamshire, in order to see 
the church, an ancient modest structure whose 
exterior does not announce what it contains within. 
It is the mausoleum of the Bedford family, and one 
aisle or chapel, shut off from the other part of the 
edifice, contains their splendid tombs. In com- 
parison of some of the noble families of England, 
that of the Earls of Bedford may be regarded as of 
recent origin, but higher honours than that mere 
antiquity can bestow belong to the name of Russell, 
which is incorporated for ever in the history of this 
country, a bright example in the worst of times. 
The founder of the house, with his wife, repose 
under an alabaster monument. This John Earl of 
Bedford may well be quoted as an instance of a 
prosperous statesman, originally a west country 
gentleman of no great note; he owed his first intro- 
duction at the court of Henry VIII. to his attend- 
ance upon the Archduke Philip of Austria, whom 
stress of weather had obliged to land on the Dorset- 
shire coast on his way to Spain, having married the 
heiress of that kingdom. Such being the case, it is 
curious that the last public business in which the 


Earl of Bedford took part was the negotiation for 
the union of Mary Queen of England with the 
grandson of his first patron, Philip of Spain. The 
tomb bears the following proud record : — " Here 
lieth John Lord Russell, Earle of Bedford, Con- 
troller and Privie Counsellor to King Henry the 
8th, of the most honourable order of the Garter — 
Lord High Admiral to King Edward the 6th, Lord 
President of the Western Portes, and in Queen 
Marie's time Lord Privie Seal. He died at Russell 
House in the Strand, 1554, in the 2nd year of 
Queen Marie's reign." 

The immense property obtained by this first 
Lord Bedford was principally from the grants of 
church lands and the confiscated estates of Stafford, 
Earl of Buckingham. At the west end of Cheneys 
Chapel is a gorgeous monument in the bad taste of 
the period, to the first Duke and Duchess of Bed- 
ford, and their "murdered son." It is striking that 
such a character should have been the grandson of 
the infamous and celebrated Frances Howard, Coun- 
tess of Somerset, and the divorced wife of Essex. 
Her daughter by Robert Carr, Earl of Somerset, was 
the first Duchess of Bedford, and mother to William, 
Lord Russell ; "that sweet saint who sat by Russell's 
side " apparently is not interred at Cheneys. 

Lord Tavistock, father to the present duke, died 
suddenly in consequence of a fall from his horse, 
His wife sank under the affliction, and in the course 


of a few months shared her husband's grave. Mr. 
Fox made an eloquent tribute to the memory of the 
late Duke Francis. The following sentence is part 
of it : — " If in Rome a descendant of the family of 
Claudii was permitted to be aristocratical in his 
opinions, surely it might be allowed to one who 
bore the name of Russell to cherish the political 
opinions of his ancestors." 

Cheneys Chapel is rich in great names — Lisle, 
Dudley, Bourchier, Chandos, Northumberland — 
amongst the alliances of the family of Russell. 

The following inscription struck me for the 
sake of the princely donor : " Here lieth interred 
the body of the worthy maide, the Ladie Frances 
Bourchier, daughter of William, Earle of Bathe, 
by Eliz. Russell, daughter of the 2nd Earle of 
that family, who departed this lyfe the last daie 
of August 161 2, in the 26th yeare of her age. In 
whose memorie the Lady Anne Clifford, Countesse 
of Dorset, her deare Cozen, at her oivne costes and 
charges, hath erected this monument." This noble 
lady was married in this little church to her second 
husband, the Earl of Pembroke (whom she probably 
despised as he was illiterate, and a mere party tool). 
" She had known and admired Queen Elizabeth ; 
refused what she deemed an iniquitous award of 
King James ; rebuilt her dismantled castles in de- 
fiance of Cromwell, and repelled with disdain the 
interposition of a profligate minister under Charles II." 


We may imagine her " smit with the love of sacred 
song," as the tomb of Edmund Spenser was erected 
at her " costes and charges," and of her filial 
affection she has left a proof in a stone carved 
and placed in one of the northern valleys to mark 
the spot where Anne, Countess of Dorset, Pem- 
broke, and Montgomery, parted for the last time 
with her mother, Margaret, Countess-Dowager of 

January 26th, 1824. — We have this day received 
the intelligence of the decease of our dear aunt 
Harriet (Bagot, Eev. Walter Bagot' s sister). Whilst 
she remained we still seemed to possess a vestige of 
my father, and she certainly formed the only link 
which connected us with many, I may say most 
of his family. She was the last of five sisters, who, 
I believe, commenced living together in the year 
1764 or 1765. Since the summer of 1822 she 
has been alone, and all who had anticipated the 
old age of the last inhabitant of that house as 
dreary and melancholy, in no common degree found 
how greatly they had been mistaken, and a lesson 
of cheerfulness and submission was given by aunt 
Harriet which none who witnessed it will ever 
forget. She kept up her interests in life, in- 
creased in kindness towards those of her kindred 
who needed it, continued to read with zeal and 
eagerness, and spoke of her sisters merely as if a 


short separation had taken place between them 
and herself. Her mind was naturally strong, her 
penetration exceedingly acute, and there was a 
degree of originality in her thoughts and expres- 
sion which will always remain in my memory. But 
I shall never again see anything like it. The period 
which her life included is by much the most won- 
derful of modern times, or perhaps of any times, 
and the change which took place in private life 
and domestic manners kept pace with the extra- 
ordinary revolutions of states and empires. All 
this aunt Harriet clearly recollected, and many 
pleasant hours have I spent in listening to her 
narrations of the days of her youth, and of the 
lifetime of Sir Walter and Lady Barbara Bagot, 
who used to travel in three days every alternate 
year from Blithfleld to London, whose sons rode 
post to Westminster school preceded by a servant 
with a horn, before the invention of stage-coaches 
— these sons who were, as young men, sometimes 
rebuked by their father for being late when they 
assembled by four o'clock in the morning to hunt 
in Cannock Wood ! At the same period no carpet 
was ever spread in the " L. parlour," or the old 
drawing-room, except on state occasions. Tea was 
considered as a treat, and rarely allowed to the 
daughters of the house. Sir Walter Bagot repre- 
sented the county for many years, and entered the 
town of Stafford for his election at the head of 


1500 freeholders on horseback. He was the chief 
of the Tory faction, and perhaps Lord Denbigh 
was not without some reason for the alarm he felt 
on hearing a drum beat (which was, in fact, only 
a signal for dinner) when he halted at Blithfield 
with his troops on his way to Derby in "the '45." 
All these things aunt Harriet remembered and 
many more which I wish I had the power to record, 
which with her are gone as a tale that is told ! 
57 Park Street, my aunt's abode, has been occupied 
by the same inhabitants since I can remember. 
I was there, probably for the last time, January 

2ist, 1824. 

February 4th. — On this day the remains of aunt 
Harriet are to be deposited in the vault at Blithfield, 
Lord Bagot's principal tenantry to meet the funeral 
at Brereton Hill — Francis Paget to be chief mourner, 
and the pall supported by six of the neighbouring 
clergy. This is all as it should be, solemn and re- 
spectable ; and in thinking of this day's melancholy 
ceremony, I cannot but remember that in one of 
my last visits to aunt Harriet, very contrary to her 
usual custom, she told me a dream she had lately, 
because, as she said, " she could not get rid of the 
impression it had made upon her mind." The 
circumstances merely were, that she had had a 
sudden summons to Blithfield, and that she was not 
allowed time to make any preparation for the journey, 


and that she was not to go in her own carriage. I 
am sure from the manner of narrating these par- 
ticulars, which at the time I thought awful, they 
had conveyed another meaning to her mind which 
this day has justified. 

On Sunday, November 2gth, we attended the 
service at Stafford Church,* and a very fine one it 
is, formerly attached to the Abbey of St. Mary. 
A gloomy, dusky drapery hanging from the lofty 
arches, between the choir and nave, I was told was 
formed by flags which had been struck to Captain 

In Stafford Church are some old French colours taken 
by Captain Whitby, whose name has already been mentioned 
in these pages. The Whitbys had long lived in Stafford- 
shire and owned a place near Stafford called Cresswell, since 
sold. The following extract is from a letter from Lord 
Nelson to Admiral Cornwallis, found in a box by Mr. Wyke- 
ham Martin of Purton, a descendant of the latter ; it was 
printed in 1 897 by the Navy League with his permission : — 

"' Victory,' q/f Toulon, July 31st, 1803. 

" I have with me an eleve of yours, whom I esteem most 
highly, not only as an active officer but as a gentleman. His 
ship is always perfectly ready for any service, and he executes 
it in the best style, and I am sure that Captain Whitby will 
give me support in the true Cornwallis style should the 
French come out. With, my dear friend, my most earnest 
wishes for your meeting the French fleet and for your health, 
believe me, ever your most obliged and faithful friend, 

" Nelson and Bronte." 


Whitby, a native of this country and owner of 
property in this vicinity.*" 

July 1827. — It is lamentable that in the neigh- 
bourhood of London, amongst the lower orders at 
least, enjoyment and excess are nearly synonymous 
terms. Their superiors have in that respect very 
recently given a very bad example. At a splendid 
fete breakfast, I believe it was called, but which 
included every other meal and lasted twelve hours, 
was held at Thames Ditton by Lord Chesterfield, 
Lord (?),* Mr. de Ros, and Mr. Grosvenor, and 500 
persons, at the expense of ^2500. Amongst the 
great and gay there is no pleasure without exclusion, 
hence the charm of Almack's, and it was carried still 
further at this entertainment when the invitations 
were given in the most arbitrary manner, not to 
whole families, but to selected members, according 
to their fashion, beauty, or popularity. Mr. Grosvenor 
was not permitted to ask his own father or mother, 
"because they belonged to the order of ' quizzes.' ' 
Many of the party became dreadfully intoxicated, 
and great political secrets are said to have been 
divulged ! 

* A weather-cock formerly stood on this church. A 
mark on it used to be shown, said to have been made by 
Prince Eupert practising upon it as a target. — S. L. Bagot. 

1 Obliterated in original MS. 


iSth August. — The death of Mr. Canning is one 
of those awful events felt through all parts of the 
kingdom as such, and strange to say, known at 
Paris in eight hours after it had taken place, of 
course by means of telegraphic communication. 
Probably there was not another individual in 
Europe whose departure from the world could 
have occasioned so great a sensation. There are 
few in these realms, at least, who would not feel it 
politically, and none to whom it does not exhibit 
a striking moral lesson on the transient nature of 
everything which this world has to give ! He had 
reached the summit of ambition. He was at the 
head of the Government of the country, and after 
a struggle, too, which must have increased the glory 
of the acquisition in his own opinion at least. He 
had promoted his friends and triumphed over his 
enemies. He had given laws and encouragement 
to rising states ; his name was re-echoed from every 
quarter of the globe. Such he was at the com- 
mencement of that week whose close saw him re- 
stored — ashes to ashes, dust to dust ! So little do 
we know of the busy world to which we are so 
near, that Mr. Canning's decease had taken place 
a day before any report had reached us of his 

The episode of Colonel Talbot in " Waverley " 
was probably founded on a somewhat similar event 


which really took place in the '45, when a White- 
good, who owed his life to one of those unfortunate 
gentlemen who were condemned to suffer as rebels, 
obtained his pardon, but not till he had threatened 
to throw up his commission in a service " which 
show'd no mercy to the fatherless and the widow," 
" and I will not be added to one to make war upon 
women and children by depriving them of their 
natural support." The force of the plea was felt, 
aud the life of Mr. Stuart was granted. John 
M'Kinnon, who was the faithful follower of Prince 
Charlie during all his perils and hairbreadth escapes, 
mentioned one in which he himself had been instru- 
mental. During one of the days of flight from his 
pursuers, overcome with fatigue, the Prince laid 
himself down by the wayside, saying to his servant, 
" Save yourself and think not of me, for I can go no 
further." The faithful attendant entreated in vain, 
but at last insisted upon carrying his master to a spot 
of comparative safety, and taking him upon his 
shoulders, deposited him in a field adjoining, and 
had not done so ten minutes before the road which 
they quitted was traversed by a troop of English 
horse in search of the Prince ! John M'Kinnon 
died in the Bath Hospital, having been placed there 
by means of Mr. Bowdler. 

During the '45, and at the time Prince Charlie 
was advancing, the Duke of Newcastle, Secretary 
of State to George II., certainly closed with the 


iniquitous proposal of assassinating him, unknown, 
however, to the King. Mr. Stone, his private secre- 
tary, became acquainted with the plot, and instantly 
communicated it to Mr. Bowdler, saying that although 
he was bound to keep all State secrets, he would 
not become accessory to a murder. He described 
the intended perpetrator, who was then in the camp 
of the Prince. Mr. Bowdler procured a person who 
undertook to convey the intelligence, but stated 
the difficulty, if not impossibility, of conveying it 
through Temple Bar without discovery. This part 
of the business was therefore undertaken by Mr. 
Bowdler himself in his carriage, which was stopped, 
like every other in those days, in order to be searched. 
The readiness with which he submitted to it, how- 
ever, and the composure of his manner, so com- 
pletely imposed upon the officers that they suffered 
him to pass almost without investigation, and the 
necessary paper was thus committed in safety to the 
person who had undertaken to convey it to the 
camp, and did so. The assassin was in consequence 
secured, but suffered to depart, as the Prince refused 
to take away the life of a man who, whatever his 
designs might have been, had not put them in exe- 
cution against himself. This very person was a very 
important witness in the subsequent State trials, 
which condemned the unfortunate lords to the 
scaffold as rebels. 


When the "foul fiend," rebellion, takes pos- 
session of a man, of what is he not capable ? 

A conspiracy had been formed under this re- 
volutionary hero to destroy all the principal persons 
acting under Government or connected with it, who 
had been invited to a f&te at the Castle of Dublin 
by the Lord Lieutenant, and the signal by which the 
motions of the conspirators were to be guided was 
the ringing of the dinner bell. This was made 
known to Mr. Pitt, but not till so late that it was 
necessary that the intelligence which he had re- 
ceived on Monday in London should be with the 
Government in Dublin on Friday morning, in 
order that the murders which had been planned 
for that evening might be prevented. Providentially, 
the winds and waves favoured the conveyance of 
this important despatch. The necessary measures 
were taken — the plot ruined. Mr. Carleton was 
sent to secure the papers of Lord Edward Fitzgerald ; 
his beautiful wife threw herself at the feet of the 
officer, acting grief, agony, and penitence (in a 
manner to which Mrs. Siddons is a joke) to sup- 
plicate his mercy. Mr. Carleton assured her of 
the wish to spare all unnecessary pain ; his orders 
were to secure all papers, however ; he must insist 
upon that which she held. Upon this, she sprang 
from the ground to the farthest end of the room, 
instantly changed her grief into rage, which she 
equally well performed, and tore the paper — which 


it was believed contained a list of those marked 
out by the conspirators — into a thousand pieces. 
Lord Edward, then apprehended by two officers, 
was in his bed. His request of being allowed to 
rise and dress was civilly and respectfully complied 
with by the gentlemen, who regretted they had so 
unpleasant a duty to perform as that of securing 
his person and weapons — a sword and pistols being 
by his bedside. Another, however, was concealed, 
and Captain Ryan, when going to place his arm 
within that of Lord Edward, received a blow, which 
laid him instantly dead at his feet. The other 
officer drew, defended himself, and wounded Lord 
Edward severely, who afterwards died in prison in 
consequence of this affray and the fever occasioned 
by agitation of mind. 

A Jacobite Anecdote. 

Colonel Farquharson and several gentlemen were 
confined in Newgate after the '45 for having been 
concerned in it. They were condemned to be 
executed, and the night before assembled together, 
in order to spend it as befitted men who were 
not to see another. About two o'clock in the 
morning they heard the trampling of horses in the 
direction of the prison. Soon afterwards the bolts 
of its ponderous doors were one by one withdrawn. 
The keeper entered their cell and said : " Colonel 
Farquharson, I am come to congratulate you on 


your pardon." One of his less fortunate companions 
instantly fell on his knees, " to thank God that 
so brave a man was spared to defend that good 
cause in which it should be his glory to die." 
Colonel Farquharson, in relating the anecdote, said 
that he really believed he was at that moment the 
least happy of the party. 

During the period of the illness of Lord Rochester 
at Blenheim (see Barnett's account of his conver- 
sation), which proved to be his last, his friend 
Mr. Home, a relation of Lord Chadworth's, came 
to the inn at Woodstock accompanied by his family, 
in order to be near him. One morning at breakfast 
Mrs. Home was struck by her husband's altered 
appearance, and inquired if he had rested ill. He 
replied, " I have had a miserable night." On being 
requested by his wife to explain himself he stated 
as follows (in her presence, that of his daughter, 
then a child, his son, and their tutor, a clergyman, 
the same who afterwards made the deposition in 
the Oxford Bible) : "I saw Lord Rochester last 
night, as distinctly at the foot of my bed as I 
now see you. Moreover, he spoke to me. ... I 
shall never forget the words — I think they could 
not have been his own — perhaps he had them from 
the Bible. ' Verily there is a reward for the 
righteous — doubtless there is a God who judgeth 
the earth.'" "Father," said the child, "those words 


are in the Prayer Book." " May be so, but they 
were new to me," replied he. Mrs. Home persisted 
that it must all have been a dream, to which her 
husband answered, "That is surely impossible, for 
I have a clear recollection of having been for 
some time awake, and just before the appearance 
I have mentioned to you I recollect the clock 
had struck three. However, we will send and 
inquire after Lord Rochester." They did so, and 
received for answer that he died at three that 


The conclusion of that story is what it ought to 
be — that Mr. Home became an altered character. 

This last story reminds me of another which I 
have heard from Mr. Bowdler on the subject of 

The gardener of a Mr. Leigh of Shropshire, 
more than " sixty years since," was suddenly miss- 
ing, as it appeared, without any reason which could 
be possibly assigned. The usual means were had 
recourse to, but not a trace led to any discovery, 
and like all other wonders this had nearly its day, 
when by successive posts two letters addressed to 
the gardener, from distant parts of the country, 
arrived, and were opened by Mr. Leigh in the hope 
they might throw some light upon his mysterious 
fate. They proved to be written by two nieces 
of the poor man, who had no near relatives, and to 



whom he had been very kind ; one was married in 
Yorkshire, the other settled elsewhere. The first 
letter expressed anxiety about him, which had been 
increased by the strong impression which had been 
left upon the mind of the writer by a dream, in 
which she had seen her uncle with a bleeding, 
crushed head. The second letter was much to 
the same purport, but her warning had been dif- 
ferent ; this niece having dreamed she beheld the 
poor gardener's grave, upon which rabbits were 

Mr. Leigh being much astonished and perplexed 
after the perusal of these letters, took them to his 
neighbour, Sir Thomas Whitmore, for his advice, 
and brought him back to his house, which was 
again searched in vain. " Have you any rabbits ? " 
said Sir Thomas. " Yes, a few tame ones." Mr. 
Leigh conducted his friend to the spot, but the 
rabbits had been removed ; on calling to the person 
who had been promoted from a subordinate situa- 
tion to be gardener, he was asked where the animals 
were, and why they had been removed ? The man 
replied he had taken them away because they 
" scratted." " Send for men instantly to dig on 
the spot," said Sir Thomas. They did so, and found 
the body of the murdered gardener, with his head 
crushed by a sledge-hammer. His office had been 
imprudently promised, whenever it became vacant, 
to the perpetrator of this dreadful deed, who, it is 


to be hoped, repented as well as suffered for it. 
This account was given by Mrs. Deane, the daughter 
of Sir Thomas Whitmore, to Mrs. Bowdler. 

1745. — At the time when nearly all prisons were 
full of rebels, one of them escaped from Newgate 
and fled down Newgate Hill, pursued by the cry of 
"Stop thief!" which would probably soon have 
been done, as the crowd was beginning to close upon 
the fugitive, when the turnkey changed his note to 
" Stop the rebel ! " The throng fell back instantly, 
shouting as they did so, " Make way for the gentle- 
man ! 


A True History. 

Mr. and Mrs. L married very early ; they 

disobliged all their friends in so doing, were rich in 
mutual affection, but had no other possession. The 

regiment to which Mr. L belonged was ordered, 

almost immediately after their marriage, to America ; 
his wife accompanied him thither. During the voy- 
age one night she remarked her husband's disturbed 
sleep, and inquired the next morning as to its cause, 
and was told that he had had a distressing dream, 
wished to forget it, and therefore did not relate it to 
her. On arriving at Boston, the first intelligence 
they heard was from an English officer, that they 
had arrived but just in time, as the troops were on 
the point of going into action. Mr. L 's services, 


however, were not required, but he volunteered 
them. He was in the action of Bunker's Hill, and 
brought back to his wife mortally wounded. He 
lingered two days, and during one of them said to 
her, " Do you remember my dream? It is singular 
that it has come to pass in every particular, even to 
the wound in my heel." He died, and his young 
and beautiful wife (they had been reckoned the 
handsomest couple in England) found herself with- 
out friends or money in a foreign land. Her mind 
sunk under her affliction, and for two months she 
could scarcely be said to know her own mournful 
situation. She procured a passage afterwards in an 
English vessel, and there, with the attendance of a 
black woman (the only other female in the ship), 

her son, the present Sir J. L , was born. On 

her arrival in England, the relations on both sides 
were unrelenting. Friends, however, proved more 
kind, and one who had known and honoured her 
husband told the story to the Queen (Charlotte), 
who was extremely affected by it, and instantly said, 
" The boy shall be mine ! " The pension of an 

officer's widow was procured for Mrs. L , and 

her son was placed at the University of Gottingen. 
On leaving it her Majesty gave him a commission, 
and also ^ioo per annum, telling him at the same 
time he would forfeit her favour if he ever took a 
shilling from his mother, and the Queen was strictly 
obeyed. The first action in which young L 


was engaged was on board the Marlborough, on 
"the glorious 1st of June." As commander of the 
Marines he had nothing to do but to walk the 
deck, and as he was so engaged a man cried out, 
" Keep as much as you can from this end. The 
other is safer." The words were scarcely uttered 
when a shot struck the speaker dead. The ship 
was in so terribly shattered a state, Lord Howe 
made a signal for her ''to go out" which was 
answered by Admiral Berkeley's " Ready for action," 
which he set upon a pole, all his masts being gone. 
After the victory, when the fleet returned, numbers 
came to see the Marlborough, and more particularly 
a door five feet and a half high, where during the 
action a man had been stationed to give out powder 
to the right and left. He had done so, and escaped 
unhurt, though the door was pierced with shots. 
Amongst those who came to see the vessel was an 

old soldier, who went up to young L , saying, 

" You are a brave lad, and I love to honour you. I 
have no right to speak so freely to an officer, but I 
knew your father, and fought beside him at Bunker's 
Hill, and when he was wounded he fell into my 


The next service in which young L. was engaged 
was in the West Indies. The yellow fever was 
raging, and his mother was miserable on hearing 
of it. She said so, and was well reproved by a 
friend who said, " Do you not suppose that God 


Almighty can take care of your son in the West 
Indies as well as here ? " Her words were soon 
verified, and after having expected nothing but 
to hear of his death, he one day knocked at his 
mother's door in good health, being with exception 
of one other person the only survivor of the com- 
pany to which he belonged. He had risen in 
rank, and next went to Egypt, where he com- 
manded the German Legion on the memorable 
day when Bonaparte's Invincible Standard was 
taken. On his return he was ordered with his 
regiment to Ireland, and when it was to return to 
England he was detained on business for one day 
ashore after his detachment sailed. The transport 
was lost, and in it upwards of 200 lives. He after- 
wards joined the army — in the Peninsular was 
in almost every action — everywhere distinguished 
himself, and returned at last to his native country 
covered with stars and honours, and without a 

Some English tourists exploring the ruins of 
Inchnachona, in the Lake of Monteith, asked their 
Scotch guide some questions as to the present 
owner, the Duke of Montrose. " Ye ken he's little 
here — he's always tending the Court." " Indeed 
— what does he do there?" " Hech, sirs, he's just 
ostler to the King." 


An Incident of the Earthquake at Lisbon. 1 

Lisbon, All Souls Day, 1755. — On that day 
Captain Anthony Haslam (father of the writer of 
these lines) being at Lisbon in His Britannic 
Majesty's 83rd Regiment of Infantry, commanded 
by Sir John Sebright, and in the twentieth year of 
his age, received orders to go with all the regiments 
belonging to Great Britain on board His Majesty's 
ships lying in the bay, lest the Protestant officers 
and soldiers should not comport themselves with 
due respect to the forms of the Roman Catholic 
Church, as that festival was passed in Processions 
and Elevation of the Host, and Illuminations in all 
their churches, chapels and streets. This order was 
strictly obeyed, and every Protestant was preserved. 
The ships they embarked in were ordered to stand 
out to sea two leagues. They felt the concussion, 
and the waves lifted the vessels to a considerable 
height. For a time the sea was greatly agitated, 
but not so as to give them an idea of the cause. 
They saw the flames of the city ascend, but thought 
it was a casual fire, and did not know till the next 
day the awful event that had occurred. Captain 
Haslam kept this day annually a strict Fast. 

February 21st, 1821. — I am informed that you 

1 Copied from a paper written by Mrs. Wilmot, the daughter of 
Captain Haslam. 


are desirous of learning the particulars of the 
volcano in the moon, which has lately been observed 
to be in a state of eruption. It is the same volcano 
which Helvetius describes as burning in his time. 
The appearance for some years past is described by 
Mr. Browne as resembling two craters, distinct, but 
near each other with very sharp edges. Kater was 
the first who noticed the present eruption on the 
night of Sunday fortnight, February 4th, when the 
moon was only two days old, and consequently had 
very little light. The volcano was in the dark part, 
and appeared as a light gleaming occasionally, equal 
in size to a star of the second or third magnitude. 
Mr. Browne saw the same occasional gleaming on 
Tuesday, and I think I saw it on Wednesday, 
though it was then very faint by reason of the 
increased light of the moon itself. Since the whole 
disc has been enlightened, the appearance of the 
volcano has been found to have undergone a con- 
siderable change. One of the craters is nearly filled 
up by two hills, possibly of ashes, or other erupted 
materials of some height, as they throw a large 
shadow. A stream of lava has flowed between the 
hills and extends for some distance of most dazzling 
brightness. — Edmund Sabine. 

l O' 

The following anecdote of Dr. Johnson was related 
to Mrs. Bowdler by Mrs. William Deane (formerly 
Miss Johnson), the niece of Sir Joshua Eeynolds: — 


During one of my visits to my uncle, when I 
was young and shy, he requested me to sit at the 
head of his table, on a day when he expected a 
large party ; amongst the guests were Cumberland, 
Garrick, and Dr. Johnson. I trembled at the name 
of the latter, and in consequence of his presence 
begged that mine might be dispensed with. My 
uncle laughed at my folly, would not attend to my 
entreaties, and assured me if I would provide a 
good dinner, that nothing more would be required 
of me by his old friend, who probably would not 
trouble his head about me in any other capacity. 
I did my best as to the dinner, and took my place 
at the top of the table, determining not to offend 
by my words, by dint of not speaking at all. The 
conversation, by some unlucky chance, turned upon 
Music, to which Dr. Johnson was totally insensible. 
Whereupon, he indulged his eloquence at the ex- 
pense of his sense, in a violent philippic against 
the art itself, concluding by his opinion, most posi- 
tively delivered, that no man of talent, or who was in 
any degree capable of better things, ever had, ever 
could, or ever would devote any portion of his time 
and attention to so idle and frivolous a purpose. I 
happened to be exceedingly fond of music, which 
conquered my fear of the sage, and prompted me 
to say to my next neighbour, " I wonder what 
Dr. Johnson thinks of King David?" He (which 
I did not intend) heard the remark — started, laid 


down his knife and fork, got up, walked to the 
head of the table — as I thought, to knock me down 
— but I did him injustice, for laying one of his 
large hands on each of my shoulders, he said, 
"Madam, I thank you. I stand rebuked before 
you, and promise that on one subject at least you 
shall never hear me talk nonsense again ! " 

During my visit to Barford, I saw a book called 
"The Memorie of the Somervills," edited by Sir 
Walter Scott. It is a genuine history of an old 
Border family, and as such valuable ; but it would 
have been far more interesting if the writer had 
given more of a private, domestic narrative and less 
of pomp and glory. The latter has now in great 
measure passed away, except that the present peer 
is still premier Baron of Scotland,* retains a small 
part of the ancient possessions only, but has still 
a residence on the banks of the Tweed, within sight 
of Melrose and Abbotsford. The founder of the 
family left a spot of the same name near Evreux, 
in Normandy, and accompanied the Conqueror to 
England, and by him was endowed with the lands 
of Wichnover, since celebrated by the custom of 
the Flitch of Bacon, there established by Sir Philip 
de Somervil, as recorded in the Spectator. A second 

* This barony (Somerville) is dormant since the death 
of the nineteenth Baron in 1871. — S. L. B. 


son of the House of Wichnover, reversing the order 
of general proceeding, migrated northwards and fixed 
himself at Cowthally in Lanarkshire ; his descen- 
dants were ennobled, and now stand at the head 
of the Scotch Baronage. Their crest is a wheel 
and a wyvern, and the story attached to it is founded 
on a tradition of the destruction of a " Wrom " by 
one of the Somervills, somewhat similar to Schiller's 
"Kampf mit dem Drachen." The transaction is 
commemorated by a rude piece of sculpture over 
the doorway of Lintorn Church, and the following 
old lines are remembered in the neighbourhood : — 

" Wood Willie Somervill 
Killed the worm of Wormandaill, 
For which he had all the Lands of Lintoune 
And five myles thereabout ! " 

King James VI. (I think) determining " to drive 
the deer with Hounds and Horn," in the neighbour- 
hood of Cowthally, Lord Somervill, who was in 
attendance upon him, wrote to his lady to have all 
the "spits and raxes" (i.e. ranges) ready on such 
a day for his Majesty's reception in his way for 
Edinboro'. Lady Somervill was no scribe, and made 
the letter over to the steward, whose attainments 
were not of a much higher order. He, however, 
read "spits and raxes" into "spears and jacks" 
and summoned all his retainers far and near to be 
under arms on the Edinboro' road on the appointed 
day. On their appearance, the King imagined that 


he was betrayed, Lord Somerville was charged with 
treason ; he pledged, however, the head of his eldest 
son, whilst he advanced to know the cause of this 
armament, which, when discovered, added greatly 
to the mirth of the day, and His Majesty's enjoy- 
ment. The Scotch and English branches of the 
family united (their possessions, at least) after the 
decease of Somerville the poet, who resided at 
Edstone in Warwickshire, and died childless, and 
with him expired the English branch of the name. 
They had also some possessions at Somervill Aston 
in Gloucestershire, where the face of a recumbent 
figure of Sir Roger de Somervill is used by the 
country people as a whetstone ! " The Memorie," 
which, on the whole, is a curious book, concludes 
with the following passage from the pen of Sir 
Walter Scott, the friend and neighbour of the late 
lord : — " In removing the Scottish mansion of the 
family from the immediate vicinity of Edinboro' to 
the banks of the Tweed, in the neighbourhood of 
Melrose, his lordship may be consistent as having 
again established his family in that county where 
they first gained their estates and their honours. 
The beautiful situation of this seat differs, indeed, 
from the savage strength of Linton and Cowthally, 
as 'the pursuits of agriculture and other useful arts, 
which have honourably distinguished the noble 
proprietor, bear little resemblance to the military 
habits of their more remote ancestry. But the 


same patriotism which armed the feudal baron to 
defend or restore the rights of his country is, in 
more happy days, exerted in increasing the sum 
of public wealth and general prosperity ; nor ought 
we to omit that hospitality, long a characteristic of 
the family of Somervill, is still practised at Alwyn, 
with more elegance indeed, but with equal sincerity, 
as when it put in exercise the ' spits and raxes ' 
of Cowthally." 

" It made me also call to mind the omens that 
happened at the coronation of James II. tvhich I 
saw, viz., the tottering of his crown upon his head, 
the broken canopy over it, and the rent flag hanging 
upon the White Tower over against my door, when 
I came home from the coronation." — G. Hicks. 

10th July 1822. — Walked this lovely evening 
in the Physic Garden of Chelsea, and principally 
admired the wide-spreading cedars, which 200 years 
ago are mentioned as very fine trees, and now are 
indeed wonderful, their close, dark foliage quite 
shutting out the heavens, and throwing a deep 
shadow below. The Egyptian lotus and Scotch 
thistle are also observed with interest. 

November 29th, 1827. — A fine bright day- 
cheered, at least, but could not beautify, a drive 
of a few miles (from Teddesley probably) through 
bad roads and most uninteresting country to Wyrley 


Hall, a curious dwelling of red brick, gable ends, 
small windows, and heavy stone ornaments. Such 
abodes are really becoming invaluable from their 
rarity, and as specimens of the " olden time." The 
house, I should think, was probably of the period of 
Charles I. or his predecessor. The family seemed 
to send me back a hundred years at least, as to 
civilisation. Great cordiality and hospitality, a 
love of good cheer and field sports, provincial 
accent and bad grammar. The daughter, about 
ten years old, is in the hands of a governess, "to 
make a gentlewoman of the wench." The heir- 
apparent, the first who had been born in a direct 
line in the family for a hundred years, and prized 
and spoilt accordingly, a rough, enormous boy, 
whose education is to commence at six years old, 
a period which is within a few weeks. At present, 
his literary attainments do not extend beyond spell- 
ing a few words with three letters. He was troubled 
on overhearing his father speaking about a public 
school, " for the lad when he was eight years old." 
" But I don't want to go to a public school." " But 
what do you think a public school is?" he was 
asked. " Oh ! where there are many boys, and I 
shall be knocked about." 

He looked wonderfully well able to return any 
knocks, but this day was considered rather an in- 
valid in consequence of a cold ; his father thought, 
however, " there were no dangerous symptoms about 


the lad," and his mother had doctored him with 
syrup of violets ! Our principal object in this visit 
was to look at a fine collection of prints, which, 
strange to say, have been amassed at great expense 
by the master of the mansion. It was very surpris- 
ing to see the Florence and Orleans Gallery at 
Wyrley Hall, but here they are, and some other 
productions, which the owner assured us were the 
very hackmee of engraving. We spent several hours 
here, well amused in various ways.* 

November 26th. — Went this evening to Ted- 
desley Park, the house of the county member 1 
(Staffordshire), which is apt to collect all sorts of 
company, from the vulgar constituent to the highest 
political characters, foreigners, and fashionables. 
The mistress of the mansion is singularly hand- 
some ; t the master of the house, I have already said, 

* When there was a dinner party at Wyrley Hall, the 
mistress of it remained in the kitchen until the first dish 
had been sent up by the cook for dinner ; then appeared in 
the drawing-room. The squire was one of the last of the 
old sort of country squires. As a child, I dreaded his 
dining at Hatherton, and after dessert chasing me round 
the dining-room table to kiss me. I always thought he 
then had had too much wine, as had been the fashion of 
his youth. — S. L. Bagot. 

-f* And the authoress might have added, good and lov- 
able as she was beautiful. — S. L. Bagot. 

1 Mr. Littleton. Vide Chapter II. 


very hospitable. He has fine wines, a French cook, 
and the best shooting in the country. This was the 
eve of a battue. Guests arrived from various quar- 
ters — some, I fear, had travelled all Sunday (the 
day before), others all night. I came between five 
and six o'clock, and found the lady of the house 
had not returned from her morning walk."' r We 
sat down to dinner at eight o'clock, but Lord C. 
did not make his appearance till the first course 
was nearly over ; this it seems is a part of a system 
of which the sole aim and object is to make an 
effect, and by what follies the end may be accom- 
plished is very immaterial. The beauty of the 
party was a very nonchalant person, brought up 
principally abroad. 

The Speaker f was the most amusing person. 

Next morning was bright and fine. The break- 
fast was splendid. Nothing was talked of but the 
coming sport — former battues ; quantities of game, 
and tayloring ! This kind of shooting came from 
abroad, and happy were they who had seen the 
"Grande Chasse" at Eisenstadt, the Hungarian 
abode of that most mighty of subjects, Prince 
Esterhazy, whose parks seem to be enclosed forests, 
who may number his retainers by thousands, the 
hogsheads of wine yearly produced by his vine- 

* Very likely she had been to visit the poor — her constant 
occupation. — S. L. Bagot. 

•J* Charles Manners Sutton, afterwards Lord Canterbury. 


yards in the same way, who can go from Vienna 
to the frontiers of Turkey without ever sleeping 
out of his own houses ! But, to return, it was 
agreed that the ladies should join the party, which 
I am now convinced they have no business to do. 
We set off in a little open carriage, and so long 
as we remained in it and surveyed the sport from 
a distance I was very well pleased and amused. 
The near ground was a good mixture of young 
plantations and old oaks ; beyond the domain the 
grey church of Aston was a very pretty object, and 
on the horizon, Stafford Castle had a very good 
effect. We left the carriage and fell into the line 
of the shooters ; the frequent reports were stunning, 
the smell of gunpowder stifling, the sight and sounds 
of dying animals were most distressing. Altogether 
I thought a battue must give some notion of a battle- 
field, and that women had about as much business 
in one place as the other. I thankfully left the 
party and the house soon afterwards. In dwellings 
of this kind there seems to be an incessant battue, 
of which 'pleasure is the object, driven in from 
all quarters, procured at any expense ; but what 
is it, when compared in the balance with "fireside 
enjoyments and home-felt delights" ? 

From Mr. Cazenove's unpublished Narratives. 

It may be recollected that soon after Bonaparte's 
accession to power a new concordat with the Pope 


was drawn up to be subscribed by the clergy of 
France. The innovations which the act seemed 
to contain were such as could not conscientiously 
be admitted. Many, at the risk of losing their 
beneficiaries, refused their signatures. Of this 
number was the worthy curate of an obscure parish 
in the department of La Vendee, a man revered 
by his parishioners, but, from his obstinacy, ob- 
noxious to the Government. He would not bow to 
the yoke, and, therefore, was torn from his flock 
and sent into exile at Moulins. He reached this 
place in a very weak state of health. The Prefect 
made use of every argument in his power to con- 
vert him ; but he, with great mildness, answered, 
" Je vous prie, Monsieur, de ne plus me tourmenter ; 
je puis dtre dans l'erreur, mais j'aime mieux errer 
avec dix huit si^cles, qu'avec dix huit mois." The 
Prefect was so struck with the fortitude of the 
Abbe* that he applied to the minister and obtained 
a small pension for him, which he enjoyed until 
his death, which happened in less than a twelve- 

April 26th, 1827. — Last Saturday the King 
(George III.) summoned the Archbishop of Canter- 
bury and the Bishop of London to his presence, 
and in a private audience, during which he talked 
almost sans intermission during five hours, giving 
the history of his own political life in order to 


introduce his own opinions with regard to the 
Catholics, and firm determination, so long as he 
remained King of England, never to concede an 
inch to their claims. " He would rather relinquish 
his crown," &c. Previous to their departure, the 
auditors asked his Majesty if they were to consider 
what they had the honour to hear was confidential? 
Not at all, they were assured, they might consider 
themselves at perfect liberty to impart what had 
been stated to them. Of course, they have done 
so, and this goes far to prove that the King must 
be at war with almost every member of his Cabinet ! 
Mr. Canning, who is at the head of it, is certainly 
a proof of what great talents in this country may 
attain, unassisted and alone ; his birth is dubious, 
his parents very poor, his reputed father died, his 
mother was a second-rate actress, and there is a 
letter now in existence, and in the possession of 
the person to whom it was originally sent by young 
Canning, requesting patronage for his mother's 
benefit, and now his own is the greatest that can 
be bestowed. His appointment of the Duke of 
Clarence as Lord High Admiral is considered a 
master-stroke of policy, as it completely closes the 
door upon the late head of that department, who 
is suspected, with national caution, of having in- 
tended that his resignation would merely have been 
for a short ministry, and to be reappointed by a 
long one. The Duchess of M , after having 


been in the deepest mourning for the Duke of 
York, appeared last night at Almack's in colours, 
thus taking the first opportunity to show " she was 
no longer Household." The Duke of Devonshire 
has been most anxious for office, and is said to 
be as much pleased with his gold stick as a child 
with a new toy. He must be well qualified for 
his post from the constant practice he gives him- 
self at his own house at Chatsworth in adjusting 
precedence according to the strictest rules of pedi- 
gree. The wife of the new Lord Chancellor is 
said to have spent two hours upon her knees 
urging her husband to accept of the office, which 
would raise her to the Peerage. The obstacle had 
been some expressions with regard to the Catholic 
question which he had uttered when Master of the 
Rolls, which were warmly animadverted upon by 
the present Premier. " How can Canning be such 
a fool as to believe I was in earnest ? " said Copley. 
" I care nothing about the claims. I did not 
speak in my own proper person but for the Univer- 
sity of Cambridge ! ' ; All the leading papers have 
been bought with the exception of the Morning 
Herald, which is not a whit better than the rest, 
but having been purchased some time ago out and 

out by Lady H , it cannot now be sold to 

Lady C . The present Lord Plunkett refused 

the Mastership of the Rolls and ^"8000 a year 
because all his interests and attachments were in 


Ireland. His patriotism is all the more honour- 
able. Mr. Abercrombie refuses office, as he says 
nothing of equal value would have been given to 
him with what he already receives as auditor of the 
Duke of Devonshire's estates. When poor Lord 
Liverpool recovers, if that should ever happen, 
what an astonishing and almost aivful change 
awaits him ! A greater could scarcely have occurred 
had he spent years in the sleep of the tomb and 
been permitted afterwards to look out again upon 
the world ! 

July 1824. — Amongst the singular "signs of 
the times " may be reckoned the numerous reposi- 
tories of sales of fancy-work for charitable purposes. 
The bazaar held in London for the Spaniards at the 
Hanover Square Rooms was the most splendid and 
lucrative. Some of the finest ladies in London kept 
the stalls, and apparently had little scruple as to the 
means they employed of obtaining money, especially 
from their gentlemen customers. To those of their 
own sex they generally refused change. Altogether 
between ^"3000 and ^4000 was collected. Every 
one paid 2s. on entering the rooms. £$ were given 
by the Duke of Wellington for a little pincushion, 
and a drawing of Lady Stafford's on a message card 
brought £1. Lady Morley got £80 by a little book 
which she wrote, and which was only sold at her 
own stall. 



The following inscriptions were found on the 
walls of the Temple, Paris, and faithfully copied 
by Lieutenant Wright, who gave them to Mrs. 
Fanshawe, 1798: — 

Marie Louise 

Marie Therese 


Francois Xavier 



Je desire faire 


abzise (sic) 

Marie Therese 

Marie Therese 


Charlotte est la plus malheureuse per- 

de France. 

sonne du monde. 

Elle ne peut obtenir de savoir des nouvelles de ses parents, 
pas meme d'etre reuni a sa mere quoiqu'elle la demande mille fois. 



Vive ma bonne mere, que j'aime bien dont je ne puis savoir 
des nouvelles. 

N.B. — The handwriting is such as might be 
expected of a child. I conjecture a pin's point to 
have been the instrument with which it was traced. 
—Mary Bagot. 

On the same wall, a little higher up, in the 
Queen's handwriting, are these words: "La Tour 
du Temple est l'Enfer." 

Lower down, in the same handwriting: "27 
Mars 1793, 4 Pieds onze pouces, 3 lignes. Marie 


"Trois Pieds onze Polices." 

N.B. — Probably the Dauphin's measure. * 

August 27th. — Mr. Spode, the great china manu- 
facturer, died lately, and we heard to-day a most 
interesting and creditable account of him from his 
partner. He rose quite unassisted, except from 
his own talent and integrity and ingenuity, from 
the situation of a workman. His gardens were 
splendid, and amongst several houses of the same 
kind was one grapery, the produce of which was 
devoted to the sick poor, and not a bunch would 
he allow to be gathered from thence for any other 
purpose. A cart loaded with vegetables went round 
twice a week amongst his dependants, from which 
they who were most in need were supplied. Any 
improvement which was suggested found a ready 
patron in him ; he never grudged risking a few 
hundreds for the chance of success and the en- 
couragement of ingenuity. He died universally 
respected and lamented, worth ,£400,000, the bulk 
of which he beqeathed equitably to his family, 
leaving also ^"500 to the Staffordshire Infirmary, 

* The late Duchess of Northumberland told me that an 
emifirt had related to her father, Mr. Henry Drummond, the 
pathetic story of a notice having been placed in the prisons 
of the Terror by some who were awaiting their fate with 
what cheerfulness they could command — " Defense de parle 
misere apres 9 heures." — S. L. Bagot. 


and the same sum towards the erection of a new 
church in his own crowded neighbourhood. He 
was followed to the grave by 10,000 workpeople, 
all of whom lamented in him a patron and friend. 
The invention which principally made Mr. Spode's 
fortune was of the blue-white ware. Wedgwood's 
was called " Queen's ware." * 

An article on Macchiavelli in the last Edinburgh 
Review, the best paper which has ever appeared in 
it. A young man of Cambridge, T. B. Macauley, is 
the author, and after his first contribution, which 
was a criticism on Milton, he received a letter from 
the editor, announcing his intention of exerting the 
power he possessed of paying a double price for 
articles of superlative merit, such as had been re- 
ceived from Mr. Macauley. Colonel Campbell, who 
led the assault at St. Sebastien (afterwards Lord 
Clyde), mentioned to-day a slight inaccuracy in the 
subaltern's account of the manner in which our guns 
were directed during the attack — it was in an oblique 
direction, and not immediately over the heads of 
our advancing men, some of whom did fall by the 
means, notwithstanding the extreme skill with 

* I was on friendly terms in 1866 to 1870 with his 
descendant, Mr. Josiah Spode of Hawkesyard Park (formerly 
Armytage Park), now a Kornan Catholic monastery. Mr. 
Josiah Spode became a Ptoman Catholic. He died childless. 
— Sophy Bagot. 


which they were pointed. Having just been read- 
ing Scott's account of the battle of Waterloo, where 
certainly the utmost credit is given to the Duke of 
Wellington in every way, I was shocked in hearing 
the expression by which he himself described the 
engagement when appealed to by officers for his 
opinion upon a particular point connected with it. 
" It was a damned smash ! " was the only reply. 45 " 
What the Emperor Alexander so well said with 
regard to Napoleon would have formed a good 
motto for Scott's life, " II fit trop de bien, pour en 
dire du mal. II fit trop de mal, pour en dire du 
bien ! " Some one wrote under a print of this 
extraordinary man, " Si Dieu l'eut fait Anglais, 
l'Anglais l'eut fait Dieu." 

Dined at Teddesley; found nearly the same 
party, one of them presuming upon being Lord C. 
to sanction all sorts of foolish and extravagant say- 
ings and doings, and no one else worthy of note, as 
a member of society, but the Speaker (Charles 
Manners-Sutton, Speaker from 181 7 to 1835, be- 
came first Lord Canterbury) ; but that, however, is 
a great exception — a more agreeable and amusing 
person I have rarely seen, his countenance and 
manner bearing testimony to the good sense and 
good temper which must be so indispensable to 

* " Autres temps, autres moeurs ! " — S. L. Bagot. 


the official situation of the first commoner in Eng- 
land. He gave a strong tribute to Mr. Canning's 
mind as the most brilliant he had ever known, and 
though there could be no more serious thinker on 
serious subjects, yet he said, " Canning has a ludi- 
crous version for everything." In some motion of 
his, of immense importance, some delay intervening, 
he applied to the Speaker as to how long the House 
might be expected to wait with patience for its 
termination. A short period was named in reply, 
whereupon Canning said, " Don't you think they 
would begin to cry ' Music, Music, Nosey ? ' His 
similes were very happy. Mr. Bright he compared 
to a bulldog under a baker's cart, Mr. M. to a kan- 
garoo, and on his holding some paper near his eyes, 
"Aye, he is now standing on his hind legs." Lord 
Boxley's pompous entrance into the House he said 
always reminded him of the honest attorney at the 
end of the play coming in with the true will. Mr. 
Canning was particularly out of his element at a 
great dinner, at least he particularly disliked them. 
When attending upon the Lord Mayor, and in 
common with the rest of the company advancing 
towards the hall, they were checked by the informa- 
tion that owing to some mistake the feast was not 
ready. What was to be done ? The Mayor proposed 
returning, Canning urged going forward. " But," 
said his Lordship, " it is not usual, and there will 
be nothing for us to do." " Oh ! could we not get 


through some of the toasts before dinner ? " was the 
reply. At another time, dining with the Lord Mayor 
elect, on 30th September, his host apologised for the 
pheasants which smoked upon the board under the 
very eyes of a minister. " Oh," said Canning, " we 
may consider them as pheasants elect." 

Harpsden Court, 4th October 1851. — Mr. and 
Mrs. Leighton dined here. He was Rector of 
Harpsden. He related the following story, which 
had been told to him by the elder of the two sisters 
mentioned, a person not young, of perfect credulity, 
and he quite believed the veracity of her statement. 
She said : " My sister and I were some time after 
my father's death residing at our home in Ireland ; 
it was a large house, and had not any other occu- 
pants. It was evening, doors and windows all 
closed, and candles burning. We were in the 
library, a spacious room, and sufficiently so to have 
two fireplaces. I was seated near one of them, and 
alone, my sister having left the room a short time 
before. I heard steps, as it seemed to me, in 
the hall, and supposed she was returning. The 
door opened, and my father entered. I was almost 
paralysed. I could neither stir nor speak, or after 
the first sight raise my eyes, but in an awful and 
indescribable manner I felt that he passed by me to 
his accustomed chair near the fire. How long this 
state lasted I do not know ; again I heard the 


approach of steps, I did not speak or move — I could 
not. This time it was my sister who entered. I 
heard her scream, and the fall of the candle she 
carried. I rushed forward, saying, "What is it you 
see?" She replied, " My father in his chair." The 
next moment he had vanished from our eyes. 

The account given by the sisters tallied, and as 
I have said, it was given by one of them to Mr. 
Leighton in Ireland, to which country his mother, a 
St. Leger, belonged. 



London society in 1842-1852 — Lady Jersey — Princess Nicholas Ester- 
hazy — The Duchess of Bedford's parties — Landseer — Lady Cork — 
Count and Countess Woronzow — Royal invitations — Lord Raglan 
— Crimean anecdotes — Marshal Canrobert — Funeral of Lord Rag- 
lan — Colonel Charles Bagot's letters — Death of the Prince Consort 
— Entry into London and marriage of the Princess of Wales — 
Naval review, 1867 — Northumberland House — Palmer the mur- 
derer — My husband sees King Heny IV. ! — Fatal accident to Alex- 
ander Bagot — His military services — Power of mind over body — 
William Pitt — An Eton story — "Little Jack Horner" — Family 
tales — My husband's death — The Queen's kindness — Cardinal 
Manning — Alan Bagot — The Jubilee — Messrs. Child — Conclusion. 

My husband and I lived for some years in our little 
house in Eaton Place South, as his military duties 
obliged him to be a great deal in London. 

Society in those years (1842- 185 2) was very 
small and limited in comparison to its present 
state. Lady Jersey's house was certainly one of 
the pleasantest that I can remember, and we were 
frequent guests at her dinners and evening parties. 
The latter were never crowded ; yet all the best 
society, English and foreign, was to be met at them 
in the course of the London season, and every 
remarkable political and literary person. Lady 

Jersey's eldest daughter, Lady Sarah Villiers, 



married Prince Nicholas Esterhazy. She was a 
most taking girl, but not so beautiful as her second 
sister, Lady Clementina, who, although she had 
more proposals than any girl of her time, died 
unmarried. Princess Esterhazy's life was not very 
happy. The Austrian and Hungarian magnates 
looked coldly upon her, because she was a foreigner, 
and also because she had not the complement of 
quarterings which they considered to be indispen- 
sable to one belonging to their order. 

In those days garden parties were called " break- 
fasts," and most of the big houses gave them weekly 
during the summer months. The Duchess of Bed- 
ford's breakfasts at the house known later on as 
Argyll Lodge, at Campden Hill, were very popular 
entertainments. This house is now (1901) called 
by its old name, Cam House, and is the property 
of Sir Walter Phillimore. There was generally 
dancing after what was in reality a luncheon at those 
so-called breakfasts, and occasionally some of the 
male habitues not only remained to dinner, but also 
really breakfasted with their hosts the following 
morning ! Of course, in those days when society 
was so much smaller, people who naturally belonged 
to it knew each other much more intimately than 
they do now. 

I remember Landseer as being a frequent guest at 
the Duchess of Bedford's parties at Campden Hill. 

Dinners then were not nearly so agreeable as 


they are now. They were of interminable length. 
The great conversationalists " held forth," and told 
endless anecdotes to which people nowadays would 
neither have the time nor the patience to listen. 
We certainly owe much to our present King for 
setting the fashion of short dinners, consisting of 
well-served dishes — quality, not quantity — instead of 
the lengthy repasts and somewhat coarse profusion 
then in vogue in England. 

I remember seeing the practising for the tour- 
nament in St. John's Wood. Louis Napoleon was 
one of the knights, and his sphinx-like face made 
a great impression upon me. 

I also recollect parties at old Lady Cork's. She 
used to sit in a green arbour which was all lighted 
up, dressed entirely in white, and looking like 
an old fairy. 

In 1 85 1 we were asked by the Woronzows to 
spend the winter with them at their beautiful place 
in the Crimea. We wished very much to go, for 
the sake of seeing the country and the life of a 
great Russian establishment, and also on account 
of the delightful climate. But my husband was 
unable to obtain sufficiently long leave to allow 
of our accepting this tempting invitation. 

We little thought then of the events which 
were so soon to make the Crimea famous. Had 
we done so, we should have still more regretted 


not having been able to go. Count Woronzow 
and his wife were charming people, and we liked 
them extremely. 

We were also invited by the King of the 
Belgians, and by the King of Holland, to visit 
them, but in both cases my husband and I were 
obliged to decline the honour offered to us. The 
expenses attendant on visits paid to foreign courts 
were very heavy, owing, principally, to the numerous 
and large "tips" which custom and etiquette de- 
manded from the guests of crowned heads. 

No man, I believe, who had served his country 
loyally to the last, has been the object of so 
much unfair criticism and ungenerous abuse as 
the gallant Lord Fitzroy Somerset, better known 
as Field-Marshal Lord Raglan, my husband's uncle 
by marriage. 

Lord Raglan intended to follow up the first 
bombardment of Sebastopol, in October 1854, by 
a general assault. Marshal Canrobert absolutely 
refused, on the plea that the defences of the town 
were not sufficiently injured. When the Russians 
were in full retreat over the Bridge of the Tchernaya, 
after the battle of Inkermann, Lord Raglan im- 
plored Canrobert to follow up the victory by pur- 
suing them, pointing out to him the probability 
that the Russian army would be completely anni- 
hilated. Canrobert refused. 


After the first few days of the second bom- 
bardment of Sebastopol, Lord Raglan determined 
on an assault, and had made every preparation 
to attack the place, when Canrobert refused his 
consent and the co-operation of the French troops. 

Lord Raglan planned the expedition to Kertch, 
and obtained with difficulty a promise from Can- 
robert to assist him with a body of his picked 
troops. On the evening before the day fixed for 
the expedition, Canrobert arrived at Lord Raglan's 
headquarters, and declared he could not venture 
on sending more than 6000 men. With this 
diminished force Lord Raglan still persisted in the 
enterprise, but early next morning he received a 
message from Canrobert informing him that a 
telegraph message from Paris had forbidden alto- 
gether the expedition. 

His own deficiency of numbers obliged him to 
yield to the opposition offered by the French general, 
as he could not execute them with the numbers 
under his own command. He spoke always with 
peculiar regret of his inability to follow up the 
victory of Inkermann, and expressed his conviction 
that had the French done so the Russian army 
would have been destroyed. 

When the French received their reinforcements, 
which made their army double the strength of ours, 



they rejected Lord Raglan's request that a new 
division of the ground should be made, and that 
they should relieve our diminished troops who, in 
their state of exhaustion and destitution, were still 
holding the large share first allotted to them. 

In the charge at Inkermann, Canrobert asked 
Lord Raglan to order the Guards to charge with 
the French. He represented that the Guards were 
fearfully cut up, and it was hard to expose them 
again, after all they had done. Canrobert insisted 
and said, "Les Zouaves feront mieux, s'ils voient 
les ' Black Caps.' " Sir J. MacNeill, who was 
present and related the episode, said, " I do not 
know what word a Frenchman would use." 

All these took place at the time that our news- 
papers and many of their readers were accusing 
Lord Raglan of want of energy and enterprise, 
demanding his recall and the substitution of Can- 
robert (!) as Commander-in-Chief of the English 
army ! 

Accusations of want of daring were the only 
calumnies which appeared to give pain to Lord 
Raglan, but more because they affected the re- 
putation of the British army than on his own 


These facts Sir John MacNeill heard from Lord 
Raglan himself. Though the danger of offending 
the French must prevent their being published at 
present, he thinks they ought to be known and 
repeated amongst Lord Raglan's friends and society 
in general, injustice to the dead. (1858.) 

Sir John MacNeill, speaking of Lord Raglan, 
said emphatically : " No man ever served his 
country with such entire devotion to the public 
good, I say advisedly, with such complete ab- 
negation of self. Even his own military reputation 
was but a secondary consideration in his mind." 
Most of the above information was derived from 
Sir John MacNeill. 

My husband went to Bristol to meet the Caradoc, 
on which vessel poor Lord Raglan's body was 
conveyed to England from the Crimea. 

The following letters were written to me by him 
describing the arrival of the body : — 

" White Lion, Bristol, 20th July 1855. 

" We, Richard (the late Lord Raglan) and I got 
here comfortably by eight o'clock last night, but 
there is as yet no news of the Caradoc, and from all 
I hear it seems very likely that she will not be here 
for two or three days yet. You can have no idea 
of the feeling towards poor Lord Raglan in this 


town. The whole town will turn out, every window 
to be closed, and every public body without excep- 
tion has offered to follow, and this morning only 
we have accepted the offer (which the Mayor came 
to make) of two — each of which will be above a 
thousand people. 

" I have little doubt that the procession out 
of Bristol will be from seven thousand to ten 
thousand people. But I think we have got every- 
thing very well arranged. The feeling is admirable. 
in all classes. 

"The Caradoc cannot come up the river here, 
but must remain in King Road, about seven miles 
off; but a smaller steamer is to go down to it, 
receive the body, and bring it up to Bristol. 
Richard and I intend to go down the river, and 
on board the Caradoc, by the smaller vessel. On 
landing we shall start immediately for Badminton 
with it, and on the following day the funeral will 
take place at half-past two, so as to enable people 
to get back to London the same night. I fear I 
shall be detained at Badminton till the middle of 
the week, which will not be particularly convenient. 
I saw both Lady Raglan and Charlotte. — Yours 
ever, afny., Charles Bagot." 

" White Lion, Bristol, Saturday, 21st July 1855. 
"I hope to be at Badminton on Tuesday. It is 
most probable that the removal from here will be 


on that day, if the Caradoc comes in to-night or 
to-morrow ; but as yet, 7 p.m., she has not made 
her number in the Channel. The tide is unluckily 
in such a state this week that nothing can be 
landed before two or three o'clock in the afternoon. 
The numbers of the cortege increase hourly, and 
the consequent difficulties of managing them and 
getting them fairly started, &c, for the localities 
are bad and contracted. 1 expect the procession 
will be three miles long. The feeling in all classes 
is most gratifying, and we have to decline many 
offers, some of which are very touching. Only this 
morning we declined an offer that the coffin should 
be brought up the river in a yacht belonging to 
a public company here, escorted by forty boats 
manned and pulled entirely by gentlemen — citizens 
of Bristol. But it was not voted quite safe in this 
river and would have entailed delay, so we we 
obliged to say " no " to it. I hope the Caradoc will 
come before to-morrow night. If she does we shall 
move from Bristol at about three on Tuesday, and 
the funeral will be on Wednesday, sooner I fear 
cannot be. — Ever yours, affly., Charles Bagot." 

"Badminton, Thursday, 26th July 1855. 

" You cannot conceive anything more gratifying 
than everything yesterday and (so far as we have 
got) to-day has been. The demonstration at Bristol 
and along the whole eighteen miles of road was far 


beyond what I expected, and the respect and regard 
universal and most touching. I am certain I am 
within the mark in saying that two or three 
hundred thousand people turned out to show their 
respect in every way they could. There was not 
the slightest hitch, and everybody, high and low, 
behaved admirably. — Yours most amy., 

" C. Bagot." 

In 1855 the Queen appointed my husband 
Assistant Master of the Ceremonies. Sir Edward 
Cust, the Master of the Ceremonies, was in failing 
health during the latter years of his life, and could 
not always attend at Court. My husband, there- 
fore, had practically to undertake the entire duties 
of the office, which he continued to discharge until 
his death in 1881. Until the year 1871 I was 
comparatively little in London, as we had a house 
in Staffordshire, and my husband went backwards 
and forwards to the Court functions. 

The 14th December 1861 was a most sad day 
for England, and one might say for the whole 
civilised world, as well as one of anguish and 
irreparable loss to the Queen, in the death of the 
Prince Consort, Albert the Good. 

It seemed impossible to believe that the tolling 
of the bell of the beautiful old church at Elford, 
Staffordshire, where we were then living, was for a 


Prince struck down in the prime of his life and full 
vigour of his intellect ; just when both appeared to 
be so essential to the Queen, her family, and the 

It needed the Prince Consort's death and loss to 
bring home to all ranks in the Empire, and to this 
country especially, his perfect character and great 
intellectual gifts. All who had ever seen him knew 
how handsome he was, but few among the middle 
and lower classes could realise his talents, and his 
unselfish, untiring devotion to the welfare of the 
Sovereign and country, and of all classes of the 
Queen's subjects. This was only fully understood 
when he had left them. 

The example and beauty of such a character 
live on for ever, and do not end with this life. 
But when the fatal and unexpected end to bis 
illness came, every one seemed stunned, and many 
for the first time realised what his work had been 
since his marriage, and how irreparable his loss 
would be, not only to the Queen, but also to the 

The following is an account of the Princess 
Alexandra of Denmark's entry into London before 
her marriage to the Prince of Wales : — 

"I have only time to write a line to say the 
sight is over, and all went off very well. The 


people in the streets were more than I saw at the 
Coronation, or at the Duke of Wellington's funeral. 
I was at White's, where I saw better than I could 
have seen anywhere else, and very much more 

" The Princess is very pretty, with a good com- 
plexion. The procession was very poor, but the 
march of the different corps of volunteers to their 
stations well worth seeing. 

"The only contretemps was in the City, when 
the mob knocked the commanding officer of the 
escort off his horse, and got at the Princess, and 
shook hands with her — so I hear, at least. The day 
was very cold, and occasionally threatening rain, 
but it never came down. Charles Bagot." 

Carlton Club, March 1863. 

"The town is so mad, and to do anything so 
difficult, that I can only write a line to thank you 
for to-day's letter. It seems as if all England was 
in the streets, which are really very pretty. I wish 
you could see the show, but to get about on foot 
is difficult, and all but impossible on wheels. I 
go down to Windsor by special train Tuesday at 
10.25 A.M. 

" The wedding begins at half-past twelve. After 
it, the breakfast, to which I am asked. I return 
by special train, and hope to see the illuminations, 
though with such a crowd I doubt it being possible. 


" There were a great many handsome women 
present, but the Princess was far away the prettiest 
person at her wedding. Charles Bagot." 

My husband wrote me the following account of 
the Naval Review of 1867 : — 

" 12 Great Stanhope Street, 
"l&thJidy 1867. 

" I got my Portsmouth job over very satisfactorily 
yesterday, starting at 7 a.m. by a special train full 
of grandees. We were delayed an hour and a half, 
but it did not much signify, as the Viceroy of Egypt 
was with us. 

"We found a very fine P. and O. steamer all 
ready for us, very clean, and with excellent food, 
and I was very glad to get some breakfast. 

"The weather frightened a good many people, 
so we had only half our expected number on board, 
which was an advantage, as the most interesting 
of those invited came. 

"We went out to Spithead in the rear of the 
Sultan and the Viceroy, and so through the lines 
of ships to Osborne to wait for the Queen. 

"The three lines of ships — one of ironclads, 
one of wooden ships, and one of gunboats — was 
very fine, and about two miles long. 

" On our arrival off Osborne, our steamer was 
directed to come alongside the Queen's yacht, and 


to keep abreast of her during her passage through 
the fleet, so we saw everything to perfection. 

"The saluting in succession, with manned rig- 
ging, was very imposing, but it was blowing so hard 
with squalls of heavy rain, that for the fleet to 
weigh anchor was out of the question, so the Queen 
and her escort of yachts, &c, passed through the 
lines, and then took up a position to windward, 
while the two lines of iron and wooden ships en- 
gaged, which was the finest part of the play. There 
were forty men-of-war in line. Though it blew 
very hard all day, there was scarcely any sea and 
nobody was uncomfortable, and we were fed most 

"I found William" (Lord Bagot) "on board, 
and we passed the day very much together. We 
got to the dockyard at a quarter before seven, and 
I, knowing that a special train was to start at seven, 
took advantage of my knowledge of the dockyard 
to cut away with William, and we got to the station 
just in time to jump into a second-class carriage, 
in such a scene of confusion as I never beheld, 
leaving half London behind at the dockyard. 

" We got off and back to London by a quarter 
to ten — very tired. Upon the whole it was a very 
fine sight ; not so pretty as the first naval review 
in 1853, but well worth the scramble 160 miles to 
see it. — Believe me, yrs. most aff., 

" Charles Bagot." 


In 1 87 1, the late Duke and Duchess of Nor- 
thumberland frequently invited us in summer to 
stay at Northumberland House, for my husband's 
Court duties in town, and we passed two or three 
London seasons there. It seems to me a dream 
now when I pass through Trafalgar Square, and 
see the big hotels standing on the site of the old 
house I knew so well in my youth, and during the 
last years of its existence. The absolute quiet upon 
which one entered after passing through the gate- 
way under the old Lion, was very remarkable after 
the roar of the Strand and Charing Cross. The 
garden also, at the back of the house, was a charm- 
ing possession to have in the very centre of London. 

We went to many beautiful balls in those years ; 
perhaps the finest I can remember as a spectacle 
was the ball at the Guildhall, given for the Shah 
of Persia by the City of London. Lady Holland's 
parties at Holland House also remain in my memory 
as being invariably pleasant and interesting, and the 
balls at Apsley House and those at Grosvenor House, 
in the days of the first Duchess of Westminster, 
who always looked so beautiful, and was such a 
good and charming hostess. 

We had many friends among the Corps Diplo- 
matique in London during those years, as my 
husband's duties at the Court brought him a great 
deal in contact with its members. 

I employed (in 1867) as a servant in our house 


near Rugeley in Staffordshire, a woman named 
Button, whose evidence had hung the famous 
poisoner, William Palmer. 

Palmer was a doctor at Rugeley, had poisoned his 
wife and many other people before he was suspected. 
Dutton was chambermaid at the Shrewsbury Arms 
Hotel at Rugeley. Noticing a curious scum on the 
broth of the victim, a racing man called Cook, after 
Palmer's professional visits, she was the means of 
bringing to light the poison he always managed to 
drop into it. Palmer was rather a favourite member 
of his family in his native town of Rugeley, and much 
beloved by the poor people. There is no doubt he 
would have confessed to a turnkey before his execu- 
tion had a harsher influence not been brought to 
bear on him by a tactless authority (now long dead) 
in Stafford gaol. The whole night before his execu- 
tion the Stafford Road presented almost the appear- 
ance of the roads to Epsom before the Derby — such 
was the hardening effect of executions in public. 
Palmer had the misfortune to possess an extraordi- 
nary mother. She sat at a window the day of his 
execution, looking on to the road from Rugeley 
to Stafford, and remarked that " they had hung 
Bill, who was the best of the lot," and after his 
death spoke of him as " her sainted Rill." A 
brother who was a clergyman was far the least 
respected of the family. A deputation waited on 
Lord Palmerston after this cause celebre to urge 


the alteration of the name of the town. " You may 
call it after me if you like," was his witty reply ! 

My husband had the strange privilege of gazing 
for a few instants on the features of King Henry IV. 

In 1832 a discussion arose as to whether Henry 
IV. was really buried in Canterbury Cathedral, 
according to tradition. 

The then Dean of Canterbury, the Hon. and 
Very Rev. Richard Bagot (afterwards Bishop of 
Oxford), invited my husband to be present at the 
opening of the royal tomb. This was done in the 
middle of the night by torchlight, in the presence 
of a few of the cathedral authorities and specially 
invited spectators. 

The body of the king was found wrapped in lead 
and leather. For a few moments after this covering 
was removed the face of the king was revealed in a 
state of perfect preservation as though still endued 
with life. As the spectators looked, all crumbled 
away into dust, and my husband declared that it 
was a most weird and impressive scene ; which 
indeed, with the nickering torches and the solemn 
surroundings of the ancient cathedral, it must have 

A portion of the king's beard, which was of a 
reddish colour, was cut off before the tomb was 
closed, and my husband was given a piece of it by 
his uncle. He gave this piece to the Duke of 
Northumberland of that day, feeling that the hair 


of the monarch whom the Percys placed on the 
throne and then helped to overthrow, would find 
an appropriate place among the historical relics 
of the family. The hair is now preserved at 

Of the Thanksgiving Service in St. Paul's Cathe- 
dral for the recovery of the Prince of Wales from 
typhoid fever, my husband wrote as follows : — 

" Carlton Club, 28th February 1872. 

" One line — time for no more — to tell you that it 
is impossible for anything to have gone off better, or 
to have been better done. The sight in St. Paul's 
was really one of the most impressive and finest I 
ever saw, and the Queen's reception all along the 
line perfectly wonderful. I went early — the ar- 
rangements were so good — there was in reality no 
difficulty whatever, going or coming away. All my 
work was very successful, and indeed there was 
no contretemps anywhere. 

" The Queen was much affected, both with the 
reception outside the Cathedral, and the Service. 
The Prince of Wales still looks weak and ill, but 
kept well through the function. C. Bagot." 

We were greatly shocked, in October 1874, to 
hear of my brother-in-law Alexander Bagot's death 
in India from an accident. He had thirty-four 
years' distinguished service in the Indian army. 


He was a very keen and good sportsman, and met 
with his death while on a shooting expedition. He 
and a party of friends were shooting big game. A 
quantity of arsenic powder had been sent for from 
their camp to be used in curing the skins of tigers 
and other beasts they had shot. At the same time 
the cook had sent for a fresh supply of baking 
powder. Poor Alexander and his friends came in 
very hungry for breakfast, and after eating several 
" chupatties," he and one of the party were taken 
very ill. After great suffering, poor Alexander 
died in the arms of his faithful native servant. 
His friend had eaten fewer of these " chupatties " 
and recovered. 

The cook and all his native servants were much 
attached to Alexander, and were in despair. The 
cook, who had not known that arsenic had been sent 
for, took the packet containing the poison in mistake, 
believing it to be his baking powder, and used some 
of it in baking rolls, &c, for breakfast. 

A monument was erected to his memory bearing 
the following inscription : — 

" In memory of Colonel Alexander Bagot of Her 
Majesty's Indian Army — fourth son of the Rt. Hon. Sir 
Charles Bagot and Lady Mary Bagot — who, after thirty- 
four years of distinguished active service, including the 
battles of Maharagpore, Moodkea, Ferzeshah, Sobraon, 
Alival, Ramnugger, Sadvolapore, Chillian- Wallah, Gooje- 
rat, the Passage of the ChaDaub, and the suppression of 
the Great Indian Mutiny, in most of which his conspicuous 


valour was recorded in the Despatches of his Commander- 
in-Chief, died on the 20th October 1874, at Busca Bhotan 
on the Eastern Frontier of British India, aged 52. 

" Blessed are the merciful for they shall ohtain mercy." 

Alexander Bagot was never wounded in action, 
notwithstanding the many battles in which he had 
taken part, and it seemed truly sad that he should 
at last have died by a mere accident. 

During the Indian Mutiny he commanded a 
Ghoorka regiment. 

My father, when he returned to Sheerness (when 
he was Commander-in-Chief at the Nore), after 
attending the Duke of Wellington's funeral at St. 
Paul's, told us that he was so struck by the little 
breeze which, after the body had been received into 
St. Paul's, quite waved the plume of the hat placed 
on the coffin. He said, " It seemed to flutter just 
as one might suppose the spirit did and then gently 
sank to rest — and it moved no more." 

Lord Mornington x told my husband that when he 
joined his ship as a middy he was so impressed by the 
magnificent English fleet in the Downs, and that, 
boy as he was, only just eleven, he felt it was a 
prouder thing to belong to the Royal Navy than to 
possess any other position in the world. Every 
foreign sail they met on the high seas was an enemy. 

1 Brother to the Duke of Wellington. 


My father told me, as an instance of the power 
of the mind and spirit over the body, that during his 
four years' service on the coast of France and Channel 
in the Hotspur he was ill in his cot with fever 
and rheumatism. The commander came below to 
tell him a French man-of-war was in sight. The 
doctor forbade my father leaving his cot, but he had 
himself wrapped in blankets, boat cloaks, &c. &c, 
and carried on to the poop and placed in an arm 
chair covered up ; he was in too great pain to be 
dressed. It was a very raw, cold, misty, winter's 
day. The French vessel was fought and captured, 
and such was the excitement that at the end of the 
action my father's pains had left him, and instead of 
dying of the chill and exposure, the rheumatic gout 
and fever left him. I forget the name of the French 

My father said that the thing he thought he felt 
the most was giving orders to run a French privateer 
down. The privateer came on most gallantly, cheer- 
ing, &c, but there was but one thing to do — to put 
the helm up and run her down. 

The great difference in going into action be- 
tween the French and English in those days was, 
the English went into action in dead silence, nothing 
to be heard but the word of command and the vessel 
slipping through the water, or a sail napping, till 
the English ship came alongside her enemy ; and 

this dead silence tried every one's nerves before the 



first shot was fired. The Frenchmen, on the con- 
trary, came on cheering, " En avant, mes braves ! " 
with a perfect din of noise. 

I recollect when the Winchester got under weigh 
at Bourbon we were close to a French man-of-war 
doing the same. They chattered like monkeys. 
Once there was a voice heard from the Winchester's 
maintop, but instantly stopped by the captain's stern 
"Silence aloft!" 

In the old sailing days it was the prettiest thing 
in the world during the first night-watch in the 
tropics to hear the men singing in the tops, the 
maintop-man starting the song by a verse, and then 
fore and mizzen tops taking up the chorus ; sails 
set for the trade wind, often a moon and phos- 
phorescent sea, and the soothing sound of the frigate 
slipping at such a pace through the water. Off the 
Azores one night the sea was quite alarming. The 
sky leaden, and the sea too, except where there 
seemed small islands of fire as far as could be seen. 
No wonder in old sailing days sailors were super- 
stitious, and often really religious. 

In their songs they were very sentimental, sing- 
ing about lambs and green fields. One would so 
much more have liked to have heard "The Saucy 
Arethusa," &c. 

The hotter the weather, the more furious the 
jig danced, one man at a time, on the main 
deck, to the small violin which played at the 


capstan to encourage the men when it was "up 
anchor ! " 

A sentry was placed over the admiral's cow on 
the main deck, notwithstanding which the middies 
often contrived to milk her for the midshipmen's 

Lord Gwydyr used to tell the following anecdote 
of Pitt. One night Lord Spencer called upon him 
on business of vital importance. Pitt's servant made 
some difficulty about waking him, as he had re- 
ceived express orders not to do so. The business 
was so urgent that Lord Spencer went into the 
room and found Pitt asleep. Having roused him, 
he informed him of the Mutiny of the Nore. After 
a long conversation Lord Spencer retired, but when 
just leaving he remembered something which he had 
omitted to say, returned to Pitt's room, and found 
him again sound asleep. William Pitt's despatch- 
box, in which he always carried important papers 
to the Cabinet Councils, was given to Sir Charles 
Bagot, and is now at Levens. 

When Frank North, afterwards Lord Guilford, 
was entered at Eton, Dr. Dampier was Headmaster. 
The Doctor had two sons, one of whom was ex- 
tremely clever, and the other was quite the reverse. 
Dr. Dampier, who spoke in a slow, pompous style, 
and drawled, meeting Frank North shortly after his 


admission, asked him, " Have you seen my son 
Thom-as, lately?" 

" No, sir, but I have seen your son Jack-as." I 
never heard the sequel to the story, but it may be 

I have seen the fan, or rather fly-flapper, with 
which the Bey of Algiers slapped the face of the 
French Ambassador, the immediate result of which 
was the war and French occupation of Algiers. It 
is now in the possession of Lord Llangattock. 

Little "Jack Horner" was a serving-boy to a 
great Abbot of Glastonbury, who, thinking to pro- 
pitiate Henry VIII., sent him the Abbey title-deeds 
disguised in a pie, which Jack Horner opened and 
meant to taste, but to his alarm found only the 
deeds, which he hid. The King not receiving them, 
sent to dissolve the monastery. Horner and his 
descendants came forward alarmed, obtained and 
kept a good slice of the Abbey lands. Jack Horner's 
estates have descended in the female line to the 
present Lord Ilchester. 

Sir John Swinburne, grandfather of the poet, 
Algernon Swinburne, accidentally found a Jacobite 
hiding-place at his place, Capheaton, in Northum- 
berland. His father had known of it, but never 
divulged its existence even to his own children. 


At Ashburnham is a large Chinese screen of the 
best period of old Chinese work. It was found in 
Mexico. Recent discoveries have proved that Chinese 
travellers were in Mexico some hundreds of years 
ago ! 

The Descent of the Cross, over the altar in Dog- 
mersfield Church, in Hampshire, was forty years 
ago pronounced priceless. Its history is unknown, 
the flesh-painting supposed to be Vandyke's. 

I saw in 1881 an old soldier at the Invalides at 
Paris who fought as quite a youth at Wagram. He 
was childish, but on his old daughter of seventy 
awaking his attention he spoke of the Emperor, and 
said he could remember him " comme si je le voyais 
tous les jours," but his memory for recent events 
was gone. 

There is an ancient bow in the Museum of 
British Antiquities at Alnwick Castle which was 
presented by Mr. John Wilkinson of Buston, whose 
family were tenants on the Percy estates before the 
battle of Sedgeley Moor in 1464. Mr. Wilkinson 
was given the precedence as the oldest tenant on the 
laying of the foundation-stone of the column erected 
at Alnwick to the 2nd Duke of Northumberland in 
1 8 16. He produced the bow, which had always 


been in his family, on this occasion, and presented 
it to the Museum at Alnwick. 

In the armoury are many relics of Otterbourne 
and other battles and frays in which the Percy 
tenantry followed their liege lords, and which their 
descendants have since sent to the castle, often 
desiring on their deathbeds that these heirlooms 
should be taken there. 

Hotspur's sword, and many of the original por- 
traits of the family, are at Petworth, and not where 
they ought to be, at Alnwick. 

The late Dr. Bruce, the well-known Northum- 
brian archaeologist and antiquarian, whose studies 
of the Roman wall occupied many years of his life, 
told me that when the Northumberland militia, 
fitted out by my great-grandfather, and commanded 
by his son, my grandfather, went to London to 
assist in putting down Lord George Gordon's riot, it 
was taken for a German regiment, on account of the 
Northumbrian accent and " burr " of the men. The 
broad shoulders and height of the Northumbrians 
created surprise in the streets, and their uniform 
was unknown. Their arms and accoutrements are 
preserved in the Armourer's Towers at Alnwick 

Speaking of family anecdotes, my father told me 
this one as having occurred during the lifetime of 


his grandfather, the first Duke of Northumber- 
land : — In a lumber room at Alnwick was found 
a large leathern trunk which had evidently been 
made to go on some carriage, and which was 
nearly full of gold pieces supposed to have been 
prepared for some foreign tour, before the period 
when letters of credit came into use. The journey 
probably did not take place, and the money was 

Some robbers made good their entrance into 
Northumberland House in the first Duke's time, 
intending to make a raid on the plate, and did 
so ; but amongst it there happened to be an 
antique silver doll, which moved by clockwork, 
and the spring of which the thieves unconsciously 
touched. They were so terrified when it began 
to move and walk that they decamped, without 
taking a single article of the many which it had 
been in their power to remove. This doll is now 
at Syon. 

On the 20th February 1881 my dear husband 
died, after a long illness supported with the greatest 
patience and resignation. 

The Queen, on hearing that his illness had taken 
a serious turn, with her invariable kindness and 
thoughtfulness for her old servants, at once tele- 
graphed to be informed of his condition, and this 
mark of his sovereign mistress's regard greatly 


touched and cheered my husband in his last 

The Dean of Windsor, our cousin, Doctor Gerald 
Wellesley, wrote to me the day after my husband's 
death as follows : — 

" I communicated to the Queen your interesting 
statement of his dying reception of the Queen's 
telegram and delight in it, and the gratitude felt 
by your children for the Queen's kindness. The 
Duchess of Eoxburgh sent me in return the en- 
closed, which do not return." 

The following is a copy of the Duchess of Rox- 
burgh's letter : — 

" Windsor Castle, 21st February 1881. 
"My dear Dean, — I am desired by the Queen 
to send you back poor Mrs. Bagot's note, and to 
request you to express to her the sincere sympathy 
felt by her Majesty for her whose overwhelming 
sorrow the Queen can so entirely understand, and 
her Majesty is much gratified to think that the last 
telegram of inquiry sent by the Queen afforded a 
moment's satisfaction to poor Colonel Bagot." 

I and my children were much touched by the 
numerous expressions of sympathy, both public and 
private, which we received from Staffordshire, the 
county in which my husband had passed so much of 


his life, and where he was widely known, and, as we 
then realised, beloved. 

I cannot write of recollections of the past with- 
out mentioning Cardinal Manning with affection and 
gratitude. My husband first knew him as Arch- 
deacon Manning, when he was, I believe, the Bishop 
of Oxford's examining chaplain at Cuddesdon. The 
Hon. Richard Bagot was translated from Oxford to 
the Bishopric of Bath and Wells. My husband 
frequently stayed with his uncle when Bishop of 
Oxford, during the agitating days of the " Tracts 
for the Times." The Bishop stopped them at New- 
man's Tract 90. In Newman's Apologia pro Vita 
Sua there is an interesting account of it, and of the 
Bishop's kindness, and the respect and love for him 
the Tractarians had — fully returned by the Bishop. 
My husband was greatly struck by Manning, and 
wrote to me to the Cape about him. 

In 1 85 1 I heard him preach at St. Barnabas, 
Pimlico, and became acquainted with him, and 
wishing to see him in private asked the Bishop of 
Brechin to ask him to see me. 

Unlike what has been most untruly said of 
Manning, when he was wavering between the autho- 
rity of the English and Roman Churches, he refused 
to do so, writing that his own mind was too per- 
plexed and disturbed to give advice to any one 


After he left the Church of England we saw him 
many times, and also during my husband's last ill- 
ness — only as a friend — he never attempted to con- 
vert us. He was kindness itself, and wrote that he 
would have liked to come the last night of my 
husband's life, but thought his doing so might be 
misunderstood, and that instead of coming he had 
prayed for him in the night, and remembered him 
at the first mass in the morning. 

I copy out the letter he wrote to me when all 
was over : — 

"Archbishop's House, February 25th, 1881. 

" My dear Mrs. Bagot, — Long as you have been 
awaiting your loss, it comes with its fresh sorrow 
and weight at last. May God console you and your 

"You have the consolation of remembering a 
long, upright, and Christian life ; and you know 
that our Divine Master loves him more than ever 
you did. 

" The nights and days of suffering which you 

shared while you watched them are now over for 

ever. Be sure that I shall not forget him or you, 

or your children at the altar. Believe me, always 

yours very truly, 

"Henry E., Card.- Archbishop." 

I have heard people say Cardinal Manning did 
unfair things in trying to make converts. I think 


what I have written proves how unfair and untrue 
such a charge was. Of course, if asked he gave his 
reasons for joining the Church of Rome ; but he 
forced these reasons on no one, and in everything 
was a most honourable and upright English gentle- 
man, as well as Cardinal- Archbishop of Westminster. 

On April 22nd, 1885, I had the great sorrow of 
losing my second son, Alan, who died at Bourne- 
mouth from illness originally induced by an accident 
received in a coal-mine four years previously, and 
aggravated by subsequent hard work and exposure. 
A voyage to Australia, ordered by Sir William Gull, 
was of no avail, and after spending a year there he 
returned home only to die. I can never forget the 
kindness of the late Sir Frederick Broome, at that 
time Governor of Western Australia, and Lady 
Broome to him. My youngest son, Richard, was 
then Sir Frederick's private secretary and A.D.C., 
and Sir Frederick and Lady Broome invited Alan 
to visit them at Perth and at their island summer 
quarters at Rottnest. They were kindness itself to 
him, but he grew rapidly worse in health, and his 
brother resigned his appointment and brought him 
to England. 

I quote the following account of his career 
from the Minutes of Proceedings of the Institute 
of Civil Engineers, vol. lxxxi., Session 1884-85, 
Part III :— 


"Alan Charles Bagot was educated at Eton and 
at Pembroke College, Cambridge. He very early 
showed a love of natural science, and exhibited con- 
siderable inventive power. He was Demonstrator 
of Chemistry at the laboratories of Eton and of Cam- 
bridge, and was engaged before he left the Univer- 
sity in special experiments for the late Mr. John 
Taylor, M.Inst.C.E., of Earsdon. 

" At nineteen he patented a safety indicator for 
mines, which was adopted in the mines of the Duke 
of Sutherland, Lord Dudley, and others ; the inven- 
tion being equally applicable to guard against spon- 
taneous combustion in ship cargoes. 

"In 1876 Mr. Bagot was engaged in experimen- 
ting on spontaneous combustion in coal, cotton, and 
wool, and invented an electric detector that has 
been awarded several medals, and the First Order of 
Merit at the Melbourne Exhibition in 1881. 

" His attention was soon engrossed by the 
earnest wish to save life in mines, and the preven- 
tion of the deplorable accidents caused by ignorance 
and carelessness. The self-extinguishing safety 
lamps instead of the old-fashioned Davy and Clanny 
lamps, and the increased care and efficiency in the 
lamp-rooms in collieries are largely due to his in- 
vestigations and to his exertions in the cause of 
saving miners' lives. 

" He possessed two gold medals for saving life 
at his own personal risk. He brought out many 


improvements in electrical apparatus, amongst them 
being a portable set of resistance coils for use on 
railways and for torpedo work. He also introduced 
a block system electric signalling that has been 
well spoken of, and in 1883 an automatic electric 

" He was the author of several scientific papers 
and books. ' Accidents in Mines ' ; ' The Principles 
of Colliery Ventilation ' ; ' The Application of Elec- 
tricity to Mines ' ; and the recently published 
'Principles of Civil Engineering as applied to 
Agriculture and Estate Management,' written during 
great suffering and advanced disease. These works 
are published by Messrs. Kegan Paul, Trench, and 

"Mr. Bagot was in 1880 appointed Consulting 
Engineer to the Trent Board of Conservators on 
account of his especial knowledge of the pollution 
of rivers, and he published a pamphlet on the ' Pre- 
vention of Floods.' Under his guidance the Trent 
Fishery Board became one of the best organised 
in England, a service feelingly acknowledged at 
Quarter Sessions by the Lord-Lieutenant (of Staf- 
fordshire) upon Mr. Bagot's enforced resignation 
from illness. 

" Alan Bagot was buried at Blithfield, Stafford- 
shire, where he had passed much time in boyhood 
and youth. When the body arrived at the Trent 
Valley (Rugely) Station, numbers of miners and 


working men came to show respect, saying they had 
lost their best friend. 

" He was a bright, clever man, and, before illness 
incapacitated him, of a most cheery disposition. He 
set an excellent example to men of his own age, 
being a very hard worker, thorough in what he did, 
and a gentleman in every sense of the word. 

" He was elected an Associate Member of the 
Institution on the 2nd of May 1882 ; he was also 
a certificated Mining Engineer, a Fellow of the 
Chemical Society, and a Member of the Society of 

The late Sir John Fowler wrote me the following 
letter after my son's death : — 

" Thornwood Lodge, Camden Hill, W., 
June 8th, 1885. 

"Dear Mrs. Bagot, — I beg you to accept my 
sympathy in the great sorrow which has befallen 
you in the early death of your son Alan. 

"You know how highly I appreciated his in- 
tellectual gifts, his remarkable and extensive know- 
ledge, and what a brilliant future I always foretold 
for him. But perhaps he will be remembered by his 
friends still more for the attractive sweetness of 
disposition, which weakness and suffering failed to 
change. . . . These things will soften your sorrow. 
Believe me, with renewed sympathy, yours very 
truly, John Fowler." 


My son Alan was taken from the brilliant 
career which scientific men such as Sir John Fowler, 
Professor Abel, and others predicted for him at the 
age of twenty-nine. I often think how much he 
would have been interested in the rapid progress 
science has made even in the few years which have 
elapsed since his death, and how he would have 
contributed to that progress by his eager spirit of 
investigation and inquiry, and his devotion to the 
true ends of science — the amelioration of the condi- 
tions of human life, and the advancement of human 

Having been present at the Queen's Coronation 
in 1837 I considered myself very fortunate in living 
to see her Majesty's first Jubilee in 1887. 

My daughter and I were at Aix-les-Bains- The 
French showed much respect for the Queen, and 
were most kind on the occasion to all the English 
there. They gave free pass to all English persons 
to their Casino that night. Good fireworks at the 
Casino and a cry of " Les Anglais ! En avant ! " 
The greatest kindness shown. The poorest had free 
passes and seats at the Casino. A set piece was 
displayed and " Hommage a la reine Victoria." Un- 
fortunately the letters made their appearance upside 

We were in London for the Queen's Diamond 
Jubilee of 22nd June 1897. Every house in London 


was crammed for the occasion. We took in young 
Grosvenor Hood, a cousin. The morning broke dull 
and cloudy. The sun shone out at the very moment 
the Queen sent off her memorable telegram to her 
people. We went quite early on board the Shah 
steamer, chartered by Messrs. Child, the well-known 
banking-house, which took us to a landing near the 
bank, which we reached by a back street. We had 
luncheon at Messrs. Child & Son's, and saw all to 
perfection, and had an excellent view of the Queen 
returning the civic sword to the Lord Mayor, Sir 
Faudel Phillips, with a graceful and dignified smile 
and bow. The acclamations and reception of the 
Queen in the streets were enthusiastic, and the self- 
effacement of the Prince and Princess of Wales 
charming and most touching. 

We were much struck with the appearance of 
the Colonial troops in the Jubilee procession, little 
thinking of what a debt of gratitude the country 
would soon owe them and the Canadians in this 
South African war. The whole pageant was 
beyond description interesting, and in seeing it 
one realised the great empire our great and good 
Queen governed, and the deep love and veneration 
her subjects bore her Majesty ; for all nations and 
tongues — Indians, Canadians, Australians, New 
Zealanders, Christians, Mahometans, &c. — united 
to do her homage at her Diamond Jubilee by their 


I cannot omit to mention how kindly, hospitably, 
and handsomely was the entertainment given to 
their guests by Messrs. Child. Their guests had 
nothing to pay for the steamer that conveyed them 
to the bank in such comfort, and back to the 
Pimlico Pier without fatigue or inconvenience from 
the crowds — real hospitality, worthy of Messrs. 
Child's position and of the occasion. 

In the evening (aged 75) I walked out alone to 
see a little of the illuminations in Grosvenor Place 
and Piccadilly, &c. The rest of the family had gone 
by steamer with a party to see them in the city, 
and were horrified when they returned and I con- 
fessed to them what I had done during their 

The last time I saw the Queen was in March 
1900, when she came up to drive about London 
and identify herself with her people during the 
war and before her visit to Ireland, when the 
crowd received her with the greatest enthusiasm, 
love, and veneration. On that day she looked 
so well and happy. We little thought then it 
was the last time before her dead body was borne 
silently through the streets of London, and between 
grief- stricken crowds of her sorrowing subjects. 

To the old, like myself, a chapter of the world's 
history closed with Queen Victoria — a chapter, too, 
and that the longest one, of our own lives. And 
with this chapter I bring these glimpses of old times 


to a close, trusting that they may serve to awaken 
pleasant recollections in those who are interested 
in former things that have passed away, and afford 
to my contemporaries a fleeting renewal of old 
memories of half-forgotten events, and of people 
whose voices speak only in the echoes of the past. 


Printed by Ballantyne, Hanson 6 s Co. 
Edinburgh & London 

October, 1901. 

Mr. Edward Arnold's 

New and Popular Books. 

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Demy Svo., with Photogravure Portrait, 16s. 

This interesting volume of reminiscences goes back a long way into 
the century just closed. The author was born in 1821, and her parents 
and grandparents had taken their share in the public affairs of their day, 
so that the book contains ample justification for its title. It is full of 
anecdotes and entertaining episodes, and throws new side-lights upon 
several important historical events in the shape of personal recollections 
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Dean of Durham, i 869-1 894. 
Edited by his Widow, KATHARINE LAKE. 

One volume, Svo., with Photogravure Portrait, x&s. 

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Mr. Edward Arnold has pleasure in announcing the issue of an 
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The Education of the American Citizen. By Arthur Twining 

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2 2 


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MAN. By Thomas Smith, Master of the Hambledon and Pytchley Hounds. 
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OF SCOTLAND. By Colonel T. Thornton, of Thornville Royal, in 
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Grantley F. Berkeley. With a Coloured Frontispiece and the original 
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subjects connected with their Training and Professional Work. Psychology, 
Philosophy, and History, so far as they bear upon Education and Practical Methods 
of Teaching, are treated in a number of interesting volumes by the highest authorities. 
Special attention is drawn to the complete series of translations from Froebel, and to 
those from Rousseau, Fouillee, Preyer, and Herbart, forming in themselves a small 
library of the Classics of Education. 

By the courtesy of the copyright owners, we are enabled this year for the first time 
to include three works which have hitherto not been obtainable in this Series in the 
British Empire. 

The Philosophy of Education. Translated from the German of Dr. K. Rosen- 

krantz, Professor of Philosophy at the University of Konigsberg. 6s. 

Fouillee's Education from a National Standpoint. Translated by W. J. 

Greenstreet, M.A., Headmaster of the Marling School, Stroud. 7s. 6d. 

The Rise and Early Constitution of Universities. With a Survey of 

Medieval Education. By S. S. Laurie, LL.D., Professor of Education in Edinburgh 
University. 6s. 

Rousseau's Emile ; or, A Treatise on Education. Translated and Edited 

by W. H. Payne, Ph.D., LL.D. 6s. 

Dickens as an Educator. By J. L. Hughes, Inspector of Schools, Toronto. 

Crown 8vo., cloth. 6s. 

Essays on Educational Reformers. By the late Robert Herbert Quick, 

M.A. (By permission of Messrs. Longmans and Co.) 6s. 

A History of Education. By Professor F. V. N. Painter. 6s. 

This work is a complete survey of the field of educational progress, including (1) The Oriental 
Nations, (2) The Ancient Classical Nations, (3) Christian Education before the Reformation, (4) 
Education from the Reformation to the Present Time. 

English Education in the Elementary and Secondary Schools. By 

Isaac Sharpless, LL.D. With a Preface by W. T. Harris. 4s. 6d. 

A History of Education in the U.S.A. By R. G. Boone. 6s. 

European Schools ; or, "What I saw in the Schools of Germany, 
France, Austria, and Switzerland. By L. R. Klbmm, Ph.D. 8s. 6d. 

The Secondary School System of Germany. By Frederick E. Bolton. 6s. 

The Evolution of the Massachusetts Public School System. By G. 

H. Martin, M.A., Supervisor of Public Schools, Boston, Massachusetts. 6s. 

The School System of Ontario. By the Hon. G. W. Ross, LL.D., formerly 

Minister of Education for the Province of Ontario. 4s. 6d. 

The Higher Education of Women in Europe. Translated from the 

German of Miss Helene Lange by Dr. L. R. Klemm. 4s. 6d. 

The Education of the Greek People. By Thomas Davidson. 6s. 
Froebel's Education of Man. Translated by W. N. Hailman. 6s. 
Froebel's Pedagogics of the Kindergarten. 6s. 


The Mottoes and Commentaries of Froebel's Mother Play. The 

Mottoes rendered into English verse by Henrietta Eliot ; the Prose Commentaries translated 
and accompanied by an Introduction on the Philosophy of Froebel by Susa.n E. Blow. 6s. 

The Songs and Music of Froebel's Mother Play. 6s. 

Symbolic Education. A Commentary on Froebel's Mother Play. By Susan 
E. Blow. 6s. 

Froebel's Educational Laws for all Teachers. By J. L. Hughes, 

Inspector of Schools, Toronto. A Comprehensive Exposition of Froebel's Principles as applied in 
the Kindergarten, the School, the University, or the Home. 6s. 

Froebel's Education by Development. Translated by J. Jarvis. 6s. 
Letters to a Mother on the Philosophy of Froebel. By Susan E. 

Blow, Author of ' Mottoes and Commentaries of Froebel's Mother Play,' etc. Crown 8vo. 6s. 

Adler's Moral Instruction of Children. 6s. 

Montaigne's The Education of Children. Translated by L. E. Rector. 

4s. 6d. 

The Infant Mind ; or, Mental Development in the Child. Translated 

from the German of W. Pkever, Professor of Physiology in the University of Jena. 4s. 6d. 

The Senses and the Will. Part I. of 'The Mind of the Child.' By Professor 

W. Preyer. (Translated.) 6s. 

The Development of the Intellect. Part II. of 'The Mind of the Child.' 
By Professor W. Preyer. (Translated.) 6s. 

A Text-book on Psychology. Translated from the German of Joiiann 
Friedrich Herbart. 4s. 6d. 

Herbart's A.B.C. of Sense-Perception. By William J. Eckoff, Ph.D. 6s. 
The Intellectual and Moral Development of the Child. Translated 

From the French of Gabriel Compayre, Recteur of the Academy of Poictiers. 6s. 

Elementary Psychology and Education. By Dr. J. Baldwin. 6s. 
Psychologic Foundations of Education. By the Editor, W. T. Harris. 6s. 
Psychology Applied to the Art of Teaching. By Dr. J. Baldwin, 

Professor of Pedagogy in the University of Texas. 6s. 

The Study of the Child. A Brief Treatise on the Psychology of the Child. 
With Suggestions for Teachers, Students, and Parents. By A. R. Taylor, Ph.D. 6s. 

The Bibliography of Education. By \V. S. Munroe. 8s. 6d. 

The Principles and Practice of Teaching. By J. Johonnot. 6s. 

School Management and School Methods. By J. Baldwin. 6s. 

Practical Hints for Teachers. By George Howland. 4s. 6d. 

School Supervision. By J. L. Pickard. 4s. 6d. 

The Ventilation and Warming of School Buildings. With Plans and 

Diagrams. By Gilbert B. Morrison. 4s. 6d. 

How to Study Geography. By Francis W. Parker. 6s. 

How to Study and Teach History. By B. A. Hinsdale, Ph.D., LL.D. 6s. 

Systematic Science Teaching. By E. G. Howe. 6s. 

Advanced Elementary Science. By E. G. Howe. 6s. 

Teaching the Language Arts. By B. A. Hensdale. 4s. 6d. 

The Psychology of Number and its Applications to Methods of 

Teaching Arithmetic. By J. A. MacLellan, LL.D., Principal of the Ontario School of 
Pedagogy, Toronto, and John Dewey, Ph.D., Professor of Philosophy in the University of 
Chicago. 6s. 

Memory: What It is and How to Improve It. By David Kay, Author 

of ' Education and Educators.' 6s. {By permission. 


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